Last Man Standing
by TARossum
Summary: Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, and Roman Reigns on a camping trip. Dean, as the main organizer, takes the leadership. But things get out of hand. Unplanned things occur. Although Dean's goal was making the trip as unforgettable as possible, he didn't want to accomplish it like this. NOT. LIKE. THIS.
1. Chapter 1

"This was a bad idea," Seth named what was Roman thinking for a while now.

"Come on, guys. Look, we have everything here," Dean said. And he started to list the things as well as show, "Food, sleeping bags, flashlights . . . moon above us . . . What more could you want?"

"Girls?" Seth replied sarcastically – as if it wasn't clear – and Roman joined him in laughter.

Then the fun was over. Roman told him, "Seriously, Dean, we shouldn't have left them at home."

"What kind of camping trip would it be if we brought girls here?" Dean countered. "They can't stand nature. They'd keep asking, _Where should I pee? And what do you mean by there's no shower?_" Dean impersonated a woman. He kept talking in female voice, "_Look there's a spider. And look, a snake! . . . I wanna go home!_" Then he returned to his regular, deep voice. "This is for men! No pussies allowed."

Seth and Roman looked at each other meaningfully. They still weren't convinced. It will be hell for them when they come home. Their partners will feel betrayed for sure. Seth and Roman spend rarely time at home, and when they finally get on a holiday, they choose to go with Dean instead of being with their better halves? Unacceptable. But Dean had a point.

"You realize, though, that you'll owe me?" Roman addressed Dean.

"What exactly?" he didn't understand.

Seth did. He grinned and answered instead of Roman, "Sex."

But that comment wouldn't discomfort Dean, who replied with a smirk and a sarcastic note, "If you're interested, who am I to say no, right?"

Roman's face got sour. "Thanks. But I think I'll pass."

Then Dean looked at Seth, now making him uncomfortable as well. "Yeah, I'll take a rain check."

"But don't say I didn't offer you my services." For a moment, Dean got lost in thoughts. What if they actually agreed? He laughed aloud. Now that would be interesting.

Changing the topic, Roman asked, "Have you got any idea how to build a tent?"

Seth replied, searching the bag it was in, "I think there should a manual or something."

"Nah, I threw it out. It was unnecessary weight." The guys looked at him as if he was crazy. "We don't need it anyway. How difficult it can be to build a tent? The other day I constructed a boat."

"A boat?" Seth asked.

"Yeah, you know, one of those little boats you buy in little pieces and you need to glue them together." Seth chuckled when he imagined Dean spending his free time doing this hobby. Dean sitting behind a table, night lamp on, a tube with glue in Dean's hand and glasses on his nose. Yeah, that was a pretty strange image. And also one that was hard to believe. "What?" Dean noticed the suspicious looks.

"Nothing. Nothing. Hey, Dean, have you put your boat in one of those bottles and then placed in on the water surface?" Seth joked.

"Guys!" Roman cried. He was desperately trying to find out how to build them a provisional house for those few days in the wild. "Can you –"

"Give it to me."

Dean took charge of the organization. "Just watch how it's done."

They took it literally. Seth sat down on the grass, and so did Roman a minute later. Seth started playing with a plant that he tore from the ground. Roman, tired of waiting for a miracle to happen, lay down on the ground and decided to watch the stars. "Bad idea," he mumbled.

"I'll just put these pieces together," Dean spoke to himself.

Seth took out his phone and tried to get on the internet. It should work, he thought. But of course it didn't. There wasn't much of a signal either. "We're stuck in here," he concluded.

"No. There's a hotel nearby. It's just a ten minute ride," Roman said. He better checked before coming here. Clearly he didn't trust Dean's planning.

The two guys stood up and started walking toward the car.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean shouted at them. He managed to proceed with the tent, but it looked nothing like it should.

"Uhm, find a place to sleep?"

"It's right here." He pointed at the unfinished tent.

"Dean," Seth spoke, "I don't know how to tell you this . . ."

"We're not gonna sleep here," Roman finished without any problems. "You'll finish it in the morning – if _ever_ – and I'm starving." He needed more than those two sandwiches and a pack of chips they had in the back of the car.

"We can hunt."

"Yeah, right." Roman laughed. He continued his way toward the car that'd get them to a nicer place.

"You coming?" Seth stopped to ask Dean.

"No," he refused fiercely.

Seth looked at Roman, asking if they were going to leave him there alone. It was dark. The place was empty. And when he thought of all the wild animals that were living in the area, he realized it could be dangerous for Dean. "Come on, Dean. Just give up and come with us. We can have a steak, wine, bed without bugs." The attempt to change his mind failed.

"We came here to camp. Outside. Not to spend a weekend in a 5-star hotel."

"I don't think it's a 5-star hotel –"

"It doesn't matter. I came here for the wild. I'm not scared of the _beasts_," he said, somewhat sarcastically. "And I can build this fucking tent." He looked like he believed that in no more than five minutes it'd be done.

"Do whatever you want. I'm going," Roman said. "Seth?"

Seth was hesitating. A shower or getting even more sweaty helping his friend? "Take a break. I'll try to figure it out," he told Dean. "It cannot be that difficult."

Roman groaned. "So I guess we're staying." Sighing, he walked to help Seth.

Meanwhile, Dean sat on the ground, watching the two of them trying hard to build themselves a place to sleep. There was a smile on his face. "Teamwork, I like that. So while you two figure it out, I'll take a nap."

"Something's missing here," Roman said.

"One point for noticing," Dean said cheerfully, sitting up. "First task, find the missing part."

"What?" Seth and Roman asked in an echo.

Now Dean was standing and walking over to them. "Jeez, you thought I couldn't build a fucking tent?" He laughed. "But to make out little trip more interesting, I've planned a couple of games. First," he spoke, but the others were only in the process of trying to comprehend what was happening. "You need to deserve your cozy, first-class accommodation," he explained.

"I hate you," Roman said with despise in his voice.

"I thought that might happen. So I brought a dinner –"

"You cooked?" Seth wondered.

Dean chuckled. "I suppose that wouldn't make you like me. Don't worry, I bought it. And I got beers, too."

"Cool."

"Now you need to find the missing part – or parts," Dean stopped to think. "I actually don't remember how many. Could be one, could be five," he said, and they couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.

"What if we just took the beer?" Roman said, suggesting this option to Seth.

"That wouldn't be fun."

"So have you got us some maps or something?"

"I like the way you're thinking," Dean appreciated Seth's enthusiasm. "But no. Next time maybe. Now you just need to look very carefully. But I assure you that it's in the distance of 400 feet max."

"Just say that you don't know where you hid it."

"Do something about that attitude, Roman. Or you're not gonna win."

"Woo, is this a race?" Seth asked.

"Yeah, you know, the beer is only for the winner. And for me, of course." He was smiling as he continued, "So ready, steady –"

"This weekend's gonna suck," Roman interrupted, but the other two guys were too excited to notice.

"Go!" Dean shouted, and Seth started running like a little kid on a treasure hunt.


	2. Chapter 2

Seth ran to the right. His pace resembled that of a man who was being followed. But in reality, there was nobody to run away from. Roman still stood on the same spot as before. He didn't feel like participating in Dean's little game. And Dean took a different direction. He went over to their car to get a bottle of beer. For himself, of course. But then he looked at Roman, who had been watching him, and when he noticed the frown on his face, he asked, "You want one?"

Roman didn't answer verbally; he was too proud to say yes. But the desire could be seen in his eyes, even from distance.

"Then follow Seth's lead."

Roman still didn't seem interested in the hunt for the missing part of the tent.

"I'll give you a little hint," he spoke to Roman only, somewhat quietly. "But don't tell Seth. There are three pieces missing in total."

Finally he chose to reply. "And I bet you've hidden them somewhere nobody'd look for them." Measuring Dean with his eyes, he came closer to him. "Like the trunk of the car." Assured of being right, he opened the trunk to see. But there was nothing. Still, he spent a couple of seconds searching every dark corner – it had to be somewhere in there. But it wasn't.

And as Roman was making sure that there wasn't a fake floor in the car, Seth shouted, "I found one."

"Good job, Seth," Dean shouted back at him. And he looked at Roman, satisfyingly as much as viciously.

"You really expect me to start running around like an idiot?" Roman said.

"Come on. Don't spoil the fun."

Roman chose not to say more. His eyes were set on an object behind Dean. His backpack. If his first assumption proved wrong, this one had to be right. It was a little bit strange that Dean let him search his property. He certainly knew what Roman had in mind; but he did not stop him.

Only when Roman was about to open it, Dean said, "Careful."

That brought an idea to Roman's mind – that it would explode. But that would be a bit too extreme, even for Dean.

The anticipated surprise didn't deliver. It didn't have a great effect on Roman. Tiredly he commented, "There's enough animals here. It's a fucking forest."

"Careful," Dean repeated. But this time it sounded different. Not as warning, rather as plead. Don't hurt it, was what Dean's voice was indicating.

Roman carefully took the snake out. He set him free, placing him on the ground. But it didn't move; it didn't try to escape. Of course. It was plastic.

Dean took it into his hand, sighed, and stroked its back. "It's for another activity."

"I can't wait," Roman said sarcastically, sounding really tired. Then he took out something else from Dean's backpack. It was the missing piece. "I guess it's even now." Seth one. Roman one. Even with his passive attitude.

"Where's the last one?"

Dean shook his shoulders.

Roman sighed. "What does it look like?"

No response.

"Seth, you have anything?" Roman asked.

"No. And there's something strange in the woods. It kept staring at me."

"Oh, right," Dean pretended to be surprised, as though he _just_ remembered. "That's where the last piece is."

"I'm not going back there," Seth said.

Roman surrendered. "Fine."

He walked toward the spot that Seth wanted to avoid because it was frightening him. There appeared to be a figure. Really dark one but its eyes were illuminated. "What the fuck is this?"

Roman kept observing it from safe distance but it was too dark outside to recognize what it could be.

Seth watched Roman, hoping that he'd have enough courage to get closer to it.

"Guys," Dean called. "Your bed's ready." He was finished with the tent. So, clearly, there wasn't another missing piece, because the tent stood as it was. And it looked more or less stable.

"What's that strange, scary creature?"

Dean laughed. It started as a regular chuckle but soon turned into evil laughter. "Oh, you'll see," he said, regarding the forest monster. "Leave it for now."

Seth had no problems letting it go. "Let's go," he said to Roman, making it sound like advice.

Roman looked confused, Seth worried, concerned. Dean, on the other hand, looked happy. He gave them a little hint of what he had in store for them. Now there were two hints he had revealed so far. But the weekend was long and he had prepared much more.

Although now they could go inside the tent, maybe a little strangely, they preferred staying outside. There Dean placed beer and their dinner – hamburgers. The meat was cold, but still, it was meat. It was food. And they were starving.

"I eat this and then I'm going straight to bed," Roman said, but instantly corrected himself, employing gesticulation, "I mean, to 'bed'."

"First," Dean interrupted, "_hey_, and second, no. We didn't come here to sleep."

"Excuse me, Dean, but that's what I consider holiday. Finally working on my sleep deficit."

Dean pretended to be considering being a good guy for once and let his friend's wish come true. But that's not what best friend would do. "Nope. But don't worry, you'll enjoy it."

"Uhm, what exactly?"

Seth was working on his hamburger so he didn't participate in the conversation, but he was listening. And he was looking forward to that upcoming activity, no matter what it was.

After they finished eating and drinking, Dean collected the trash, then left it in front of the tent, which they entered. Dean had his backpack with him and appeared to be searching for something that should be in it. Seth and Roman waited. But now with the roof – although only provisional – above their heads, they felt calmer. At least Roman. The nervousness caused by hunger disappeared. On the other hand, nervousness caused by not knowing what would happen next emerged.

Dean took out three flashlights. Each guy got one.

"Storytelling time?" Seth asked, enthusiastic.

Dean smiled and nodded.

The eyes of the two guys where sparkling, Roman's . . . Roman was mumbling something to himself. "Legacy. Evolution. The Wyatt Family. Do you think _they_ ever do something like this?" In reality, he was saying _Do you think they ever do something this stupid?_

"I've heard Wyatt organizes these little séances every month," Dean answered, even though it wasn't expected of him.

"Yeah, right," Roman more or less ignored the comment, which certainly didn't contain truthful information. "But no. The Shield has to be special. Three weirdos in the middle of nowhere. With a lunatic as an organizer. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he kept on complaining. "Hell, The Shield doesn't even exist anymore. But still, we're here, _bondin_g."

"Because you never know," Dean told him, sarcastic tone on. "We may need to stay friends."

"Then doing this is not a way to go."

"Shut up, Roman. I want to hear a story," Seth intervened.

"Yeah, shut up, Roman," Dean repeated, smiling. "It's storytelling time." He shut the "door" of the tent and lit his flashlight. He gave them a look saying "you too." Then he looked at his flashlight, thinking about something, wondering if he was happy with it. Clearly not, because he turned it off and left it lying next to him. He looked into his backpack again – he couldn't see much because it was dark in there, but he didn't care to use his flashlight – and took out something else that would light up the world for him. A lightsaber.

Seth's face cheered up. "I want one too," he cried.

"The person telling a story can have it."

"Oh, give it to me," Roman said and grabbed it. Now even on his face there could be seen an enthusiastic expression. For a moment he just stared at the lightsaber, observing it carefully. A smile appeared on his face before he looked at them again. The seriousness was gone. "So you wanna here a little story, huh? I may have something for you."


	3. Chapter 3

**It's funny how it was supposed to be a one-shot and now I'm stretching even their stories to separate chapters. Anyhow, this is Roman's story.**

* * *

"It happened a year ago," Roman started but immediately he was interrupted by Seth.

"A true story? I like that."

Roman looked at Seth but continued. "It was Monday and Raw just ended. I had match that night, we all did," he corrected himself. "I wanted to leave right afterwards, go straight to bed, you know. So I packed my stuff and in five minutes I was gone."

Seth appeared to be thinking about that night, trying to remember, but it was impossible. It was a year ago, and honestly, Seth had no idea what Roman was talking about. But that made it only more interesting.

"I entered the room and wanted to turn the lights on – because it was really dark – but it didn't work. I went over to the bathroom and turn the light on there. That worked, although only for a few minutes. Before I could get all my stuff out of the bag, the room was absolutely dark again. I was thinking _screw it_ but also I wanted to fucking see something, so finally I went downstairs to the reception to ask them at least for a flashlight. But it was empty; not a single employee of that madhouse was there." Roman stopped to readjust his position on the ground. "I decided to leave it; I was leaving in the morning anyway. And it's not like I need a light on to fall asleep. Therefore I got back to my floor and entered the room. I opened the window. Normally I'd get some light from outside, from street lighting or a fucking moon, but I had the _luck_ to get the awesome view at the neighbors. Who were sleeping by that time, by the way. Or nobody lived there. Anyhow, I tried to find my way around using my phone. Damn! How I wished I had installed that flashlight app."

"This story is boring," Dean cried.

"It'll get better," promised Roman and continued, "I noticed a chocolate on the pillow."

Dean had problems believing him. "Yeah, like you'd remember that."

"There could've been one," he said. "I took it and threw it away – I didn't trust it. Then I lay down on the bed. Still wearing the same clothes, without taking a shower, but I didn't care. I closed my eyes. The seconds I closed them though, I sensed something strange. A change. I opened my eyes to see that the lights were on."

"I don't get it. What's so scary about this story? So the electricity started working again," Dean reasoned.

Ignoring Dean's comment, Roman continued. "I heard someone knocking on my door. I thought that maybe somebody came to apologize for the loss of electricity. I stood up and walked over to the door. The second I opened them, the lights went off again. Moreover, there was nobody in the corridor. And everything was so fucking quiet. I returned inside but I couldn't leave it like that. I knew something was happening. One more time I opened the door and looked outside. I stepped outside and decided to check the hallway. The strange thing was that the elevator worked. Just to see, I went on the next floor where I noticed the lights worked there. It had to be just my floor and my room. And that was way too suspicious. Besides, when I wanted to enter the room, I couldn't get inside. The key-card didn't work."

"Hey," Seth interrupted. "I remember something like that happening to me. It could have been a year ago, when I think about it. But there was more than the lights. When I first got into the room, I noticed the windows – all the windows – were opened. I tried to close them but it seemed impossible. Then –when I almost gave up – I managed to close them. And the funny thing was, on one window there was a picture of me. On the other, there was a picture of The Shield. But, my face was crossed out."

"That didn't happen in my room. But when I finally got into my room, I saw my clothes all over the room. Covered in something red. I hoped it wasn't blood, but that's what I honestly thought it was. And the same color was on the mirror in the bathroom, where, surprisingly, the lights were on. Then I looked at the bathtub. Something was in there. I moved the curtain to see a life-size inflatable figure of me – I didn't even know they made those – wearing my then ring gear. And 'I' had a knife stabbed in my chest. Now that was a strange sight."

"Have you found out what happened?" Seth asked, worried.

"Not really. I just assumed – and now that I know it happened to you as well, I'm more or less sure – that somebody was pissed at The Shield for winning. I really can't remember who we had a match against that night, but it's possible that they did this. For fun. I mean, did the same thing, or something similar, happened to you as well, Dean?"

"Hmm, let me think," he paused. "A year ago, you say?"

"More or less."

"I remember having blood in my room. I remember some pictures of The Shield."

"Then it had to be it –" Roman concluded but got interrupted by Dean.

"I also remember asking the charming hotel manager what it would take for her to let me manipulate with some rooms," he said casually.

"Idiot!" Seth shouted.

"I should have thought that it was you," admitted Roman.

"It was fun to play with your minds." He laughed. "You both refused to sleep alone the next night."

"How do you know that?"

"Oh, I know everything."

Roman wondered. "So what did it take to make her help you?"

Dean smiled but didn't say anything. Then, when Roman and Seth stopped noticing him, his looked abstractedly on the ground. The smile was gone. He didn't feel like mentioning that he got a threatening letter, possibly at that time. And that the blood in his room wasn't put there by him. Basically, saying that it was a joke made by him was a lie. He just took credit for something he didn't do. Dean didn't even know the reason why he lied about it. What he knew was that if now he said the truth, they wouldn't believe him. At least they feel better thinking it was a joke. Maybe it was. Maybe not.

"Well, anyway, that's my story. Who'd like to continue?"

Seth meant to speak but Dean interrupted. "It wasn't me," he finally said.

"You just said it was."

"I lied."

"Why would you lie about that?" Roman asked, laughing.

"I don't know, okay? I just did."

Seth started wondering. Could he actually be telling truth now? Or what was happening? "So you're saying that none of what you said a minute ago is true."

"Yes," Dean replied slowly, nodding.

"You didn't make that joke."

"I don't even know if it was a joke," he admitted.

"Shit," Roman exclaimed. "What happened that night? Now I'm getting worried."

"I don't know. I don't understand."

Dean said, "It could have really been just a revenge on us because of the earlier match."

"But we don't know for sure."

"Look," Dean concluded. "It happened a year ago. It didn't repeat. And we're still alive."

"Actually," Seth said.

"What? You're dead?" asked Dean sarcastically.

"No." Seth laughed. "But something like that happened one more time to me."

"Is that your story?"

"No, I have something else to tell. But that one when I had to call 911 would be probably interesting as well."

"You can tell both."

"We don't have whole night for this."

"Actually," Dean said, "that's the nice thing. We do."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, I'll start with a not so bloody story," Seth began his part.

"But you'll say the other one as well, right?" Dean asked, somehow knowing he would. Ooh, this was gonna be an awesome night, he thought to himself.

"I'll see. So, anyhow, when this happened – and yes, it really happened – I was at home because I had a few days off. Of course that my girlfriend used that rare opportunity to get me to go shopping with her. Great fun by that way. As always." He sighed with a smile on his face. "We were at the shoes section when I noticed some guy looking at my girlfriend. He either sucked at hiding it or didn't care if I saw it. He stared our way so I started watching him. Well, I had to. And I waited for the moment he would realize what he was doing was inappropriate. Looking at somebody's girlfriend? No. You check her out once, I can live with that. But if you don't look away if I notice what you're doing . . . I knew _he knew_ I saw him; he had to see the I-know-about-you-so-you-better-stop-before-something-happens face I was giving him, but it didn't do anything to him. He even _smiled_."

"Confidence," Dean summed up what according to him gave the stranger courage to continue.

"And it wasn't like he'd even stand a chance. He was shorter than me, weaker than me, and less handsome, of course. Anyhow, she wanted to go to look at dresses so I let go off him for a moment. But then, three minutes later, it happened again. Or, it continued. He was few feet away from us, _pretending_ to be looking at some polo shirts. Like I wouldn't notice he had eyes for my beautiful girl only. But when she went try the dress on, I went over to him, to let him nicely know that I didn't want him to continue staring at my property."

"Use that word in front of her and she no longer will be your _property_," said Roman jokingly, and laughed.

Dean wanted to know what happened next. "Did you _tell_ him the good old way, you know, with some action?"

"I didn't beat him up in a shopping center, if that's what you're asking. No. I just said to him that he should mind his own business."

"Really? That's all you said?" Roman doubted the statement. Or he thought it was the short version.

"Maybe I mentioned that if I catch him staring at my girlfriend one more time, it'll be the last thing he'll ever see." Seth reflected. "That'll be a marvelous view, he said." He chuckled.

"Then you hit him, no?" Dean still hoped for some action.

Seth shook his head. "No. Because then he said, 'I'll give anything to see your beautiful eyes right before I die.'"

Roman laughed when he realized the truth. "He was looking at _you_." He continued with euphoria. "Oh, isn't it cute."

"He was gay," Dean only seemed to have realized now.

"Yep. He was in fact interested in me, not in my girlfriend."

"What did you do? Did you ask him out?"

"Yeah, right, 'cause that makes perfect sense. That's what every sane man in that situation would do," he said sarcastically. First, I'm in a relationship, and second, I'm straight."

Dean countered, "Like that ever mattered."

Strange, confused look appeared on the storyteller's face. "I don't know about you," he said, unsure about Dean's way of thinking, and actions he had possibly undertaken in the past, "but to me at least it matters. Seriously, though, have you ever had _that_ experience?"

"Like I'd remember," he replied, and he didn't really make it totally clear if it was meant to be a sarcastic comment or not. "So what happened?" he somewhat changed the topic.

"Nothing."

"That means hand-stuff," Dean said.

"No! I said I was not interested."

"Sure . . ."

"Seriously, Dean. That was it. Although I met him a couple of times afterwards."

"Right, _met_. Accidentally, no?"

"Oh, fuck! Why did I even tell you about this? Just take it a little bit seriously, please. You know I'd never –"

"Never say never," Dean interrupted to say.

Roman just uttered, "Now I feel uncomfortable sharing this tent with you two."

"_Uncomfortable_," Dean said sarcastically. A wide grin on his face.

"Leave it, Dean. Or Seth and I will kick you out of here."

Appearing to be willing to agree on letting it go, Dean asked, "So you met him afterward. And?"

"We smiled at each other, said 'hey.' That's pretty much it."

"Said '_hey_'," Dean repeated, but very seductively. He even winked at Seth.

"That's it. Out!" Roman said.

"You can't seriously kick me out of here."

But Dean saw in Roman's eyes that he was not joking. He looked at the door and decided to shut his mouth to avoid losing the privilege of being inside. He looked at Roman again, who opened the door and watched the sky for a brief moment, then put his head back inside the tent and meaningfully uttered, "I think it's gonna rain."

"You wouldn't actually make me leave, would you?" Dean asked.

"You can go ahead with this immature behavior and see, or you can shut up and be safe."

After some consideration, he nodded. "Okay, I understand. But nobody likes to hear the truth. And, you know, I will always love Seth, if you're gay or not."

"Out!" Roman shouted. And he had Seth's full support.

"Seriously, guys?" But that question came when half of Dean's body had been already pushed out.

After Roman zipped up the door of the tent again, he shouted at Dean, "You can listen from out there too."

"I'm lonely in here," Dean cried.

"Don't worry. I'm sure there are plenty of friendly animals out there that won't wait long to welcome you in the wild," Roman assured him, successfully scaring him.

"Let me back," Dean begged. "It's dark outside."

"Oh, I know it's dark and scary. But you're not afraid of the forest, are you?" Roman teased him from safe distance.

Seth joined the conversation, "Don't be such a pussy, Dean. Man up!"

Then Seth looked at Roman and asked him, "So you want to hear the other story?"

"Sure I do."

"Could you speak louder? I can't hear you over here," Dean shouted.

Seth smiled, although he knew Dean couldn't see him. Actually, he thought and took one of the flashlights in his hand. Then he placed it under his chin and looked the way where he knew Dean was. Now a shadow of a scary figure appeared on the wall of the tent. "Hey, Dean, this story is just for you. A nice, scary story that you'll really enjoy from out there."


	5. Chapter 5

Roman grinned at the thought of Dean missing out. He felt no sympathy for him since it was all his fault. He watched the shadow on the wall of the tent, imagining Dean's angry face. For a second, a thought of Dean digging his way back into the tent popped up in Roman's mind. He even looked at the ground to see a hole appearing and Dean's stubborn head in it, but of course none of that happened. That master plan was too perfect even for Dean.

"Go on," Roman encouraged Seth in telling his second story of the day. He proceeded to grab a beer, handed one to Seth, and then asked, "Hey, Dean, you want one?" And with the sound of the bottle opening, Roman knew Dean'd get a pretty clear image of what was happening inside of the tent. Roman didn't wait long for Dean's answer; after hearing the first syllable he interrupted Dean, saying, "Oh . . . wait." And he laughed. "Cheers, mate!" he addressed the only other present person in their awesome crib. Well, it was pretty solid. And now that they got Dean out of there, it was fairly spacious, too.

"So . . ." Seth started, but reconsidered when he found out there was still too much liquid in his mouth to talk. He swallowed and then finally he got into storytelling. "It was a long time ago –"

"Wait, weren't you supposed to tell that follow-up to that incident that happened last year?"

Seth scratched his "beard." "Okay. So it did not happen a _long_ time ago."

"Technically –"

"Just don't turn into Dean. Or you'll follow him outside."

Roman chuckled. "Yeah, right, 'cause _you_ are strong enough to force me out of here."

"Who said I'd need to use strength? I know your deepest fears, bro."

For a moment, Roman was watching him quietly. _You have nothing on me_. Was that was Roman was thinking? Finally, Roman said, guessing, "You'd fart, wouldn't you?"

Seth smiled widely, showing his teeth. Sparkling eyes were indicating Roman's guess was probably right, but it just as well could have been simply caused by amusement. There was a pretty good chance Seth knew better ways to make himself the king of the tent.

"The question is whether you want us to leave this place as friends or not."

"I don't think that's happening. We've already got Dean out of here and it's only a matter of time who stays and who'll be the next one to leave."

"Speaking of which," Seth said. He seemed distracted by some noise heard not that far from them. A noise of the engine starting. "You don't think Dean's taking our car and leaving, do you?" Seth expressed his fears.

"I'm afraid that bastard is taking _my _car." Hurriedly Roman unzipped the tent to look outside. "That jerk!" he cried when he saw that now there was neither Dean nor the car. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Not if I find him first," Seth, now standing beside Roman, added.

"There's never enough times for Dean Ambrose to die."

"What are we actually gonna do now? You think he'll come back?"

"Depends on his mood, I'd say. But I'm too tired to deal with it now; nor have I an idea what to do."

Not having a better plan – none plan at all actually – they returned inside.

Roman lied down and yawned. "I just want to sleep."

For a short moment, the place fell silent. Then Seth asked, "But I can still win the storytelling competition, right?"

Roman chuckled. "I suppose so. But the thing is, Dean's got the prize – if there's any."

"Great," Seth uttered sarcastically. But he still wanted to tell the story. He chose a different one, though. "It'll happen tomorrow. And it won't be nice."

"I like that." Roman started to focus on Seth again. It would be sweet if he came with a revenge plan. Dean'd definitely deserve a nasty revenge for bailing out like that.

"This is how it'll go. He'll return. He'll come back early in the morning to wake us up like we know he will. You know, to make sure we won't oversleep." A grin appeared on Seth's face. "But we'll be waiting for him. Ready for some action."

"When you say _action_ . . .?"

Seth sighed. Like _not this again_. "I mean tying him down . . ." Seth stopped. "Which probably doesn't make it that much clearer. But hey, there'll be a beating. Don't worry about that."

Roman lied down again, closed his eyes. His hands rested on his chest. "So tell me that nice goodnight story."

Seth lied down as well, in opposite direction. His eyes were directed at the sky, which he couldn't see, though. But even the ceiling served well as a focus point.

"It's early morning, we're both sleeping – at least that's what Dean's thinking as he unzips the tent. He quietly gets inside to surprise us, and shouts, "Morning, idiots," or something like that. But I heard him parking the car and I got ready. Big time ready. In my left hand I hold a Swiss Army knife and in the right one . . . well, I don't know. I haven't planned it yet," Seth admitted, sadness in his eyes. If only he could think of a revenge. But it really wasn't that simple. "You have something?" he turned to Roman for help.

Roman, though, was distracted by the bugs gathering on top of their tent. The light attracted them. "Nope. Just say the other story. I'm gonna fall sleep soon anyway."

"Well, thanks," Seth said with sarcasm in his voice. "That really makes me feel better."

"Look, Seth, let's be honest here. It's late. Dean's gone. And I'm tired. So if you want to tell the story, I don't mind."

"You don't mind?" Seth repeated, now lacking the former excitement.

"Really. Just go ahead; I like listening to your voice. I actually think it's a compliment if I fall asleep as you talk."

"Compliment?" He sighed and got up.

"Where you're going?" Roman asked as he noticed Seth on his way out.

"Don't know. Look if Dean isn't hiding behind the next corner."

Roman smiled.

"Goodnight."

As Seth's right foot touched the outside ground, Roman raised himself and said to him, "Come on. Just stay inside; it's safer and cozier. I seriously doubt that Dean's still nearby. He drove away; you heard him," Roman reminded him.

"It's just . . . this isn't turning out the way I'd want it."

"I understand. But hey, remember this was all Dean's plan. And we both know him pretty well. He's coming back."

"You said he wouldn't."

Roman chuckled.

Finally Seth seemed to have understood. "This is not the end of it. This weekend'll get worse, won't it?"

"You can bet it will. So now just, please, come inside, lie down, and wait for the morning to see Dean's stupid face again."

Seth did sit down on the floor. "You think he's staying at that nice hotel?"

That brought a smile to Roman's face. "That bastard!" he said, but humorously. "That was a good plan." He looked at Seth. "I knew we'd be the ones to suffer throughout this whole trip."

"If Dean's goal is to make this an unforgettable memory, he's on a good way to succeed."

"Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"You realize we can fight back?"


	6. Chapter 6

Roman woke up early the following morning. He didn't sleep much at night because, unlike Seth, he wasn't willing to let Dean's flee pass. The probability of Dean coming back in the morning was high, so Roman made himself a promise to come with a revenge plan. But it wasn't that simple.

It had to be around seven in the morning when he left Seth alone with his dreams and took a walk. He didn't really get the chance to see the surroundings the previous day. Although, when he remembered Dean's hidden surprises, it'd be probably better not to try to discover anything. Just think, he said to himself. There had to be something that would catch Dean off-guard.

Poor Seth knew nothing. He was still asleep when Roman left, and honestly, his dreams made him forget about the events of the previous night. He just woke up to the sound of hissing. His eyes opened widely and his body tried to jump away when he noticed a snake next to him. Keep calm, he whispered, but his heart was beating fast and drops of sweat appeared on his forehead. What to do now? Seth's brain directed his thinking, trying to find a solution. No that he was really scared. Surprised, yes. Shocked. If only he wasn't alone in there. Where the fuck is Roman? Seth really noticed only now that his buddy was gone. Why was everyone abandoning him? No time for thinking, he realized. The snake was watching him. Would he attack? But before he'd get the chance, Seth grabbed its head and held it tightly. Carefully, so that it wouldn't get away, he stepped out of the tent, took a few more steps and released the snake. He smiled when he realized how bravely he dealt with the situation he found himself in.

Now where in the hell was Roman? Seth looked around, but his friend was nowhere to be seen. Just . . . Seth grinned. Nearby there was parked a car he hasn't seen since last night.

"Look who's back," Seth whispered.

That snake probably didn't appear in his tent as randomly as Seth initially thought. No. When there's a snake, there's an ache. Or, better said, a pain in the ass called Dean Ambrose. Now that revenge that Seth still had no idea about would come in handy.

"Where's that son of a bitch?" Seth asked rhetorically. It shouldn't be too difficult to spot him since there was literally almost no place to hide. Nor nearby. Yet both Roman and Dean were successful to disappear from Seth's sight. On the left, nothing. On the right, nothing. Behind? Nope. Seth made more steps in the direction of his previous location, but when he approached the tent again, he could see that it was vacated.

Then he heard whistling. And another one. Where was it coming from? It seemed to Seth that those two sounds came from different directions. Naturally, he turned his head to the side where he thought the sound came from. He could see nothing. And the next sound confused him even more because it came from another place. He felt like in a horror movie. Alone, watched by somebody. Except it was early morning and the sunlight ruined the scary atmosphere. Moreover, he knew it was Dean who kept whistling.

"Just come out," Seth encouraged him with bitter hatred for the game Dean was playing with him.

"No," answered the voice, which kept echoing for a few more seconds. How was he even doing this? ran through Seth's mind.

"Come on, Dean. I know it's you." He could even hear him laughing.

Seth followed the sound of the laughter and the steps he heard close to him, but still couldn't see the person making them. Seth walked carefully at first, but then, as he spotted a figure behind a tree, he started walking more briskly, until it turned into slow running. Then his body gave in and he almost found himself splashed over the ground. Only his quick reflexes prevented him from falling. He turned his head to see the reason; Dean implanted a trap. There was an almost invisible string, which he tripped over. Naturally. The sound of loud laughter brought another wave of anger onto him. "Not funny, Dean. Not funny," he uttered.

Since he could still see some moving body at the beginning of the forest, he followed it. Now he was being really careful. He entered the forest where he hoped the game to end. But as he was made to go deeper, the light was disappearing.

"Could we at least have a breakfast break?" Seth suggested.

No answer came from the man behind this "morning activity."

But in a minute, somebody called, "Hey, Sethie!" And then, "Follow the buzzards." That voice, though, certainly didn't belong to Dean Ambrose.

"What was that?" now Dean asked. So it really wasn't him who said that.

"You didn't invite the Wyatts, did you?" Seth asked. Now he had to be careful. He noticed something strange on the ground; possibly another trap. He avoided it. Just to step on a pile of shit. It was forest after all; there were animals with biological needs in it. "Shit," Seth exclaimed. His boot was now looking even dirtier and he didn't even want to know how it smelled. "Screw it." There was no point in chasing Dean. He knew it was him, and also that he'd keep on running away. Now washing the shit off the boot became the priority.

There appeared to be a stream nearby. Yeah . . . appeared, but there was none in reality.

"Looking for something?" Dean asked from behind.

Seth mumbled, "You, water, Roman." Then he spoke directly to Dean, sounding irritated and tired at the same time. "Could you just grow up and come here?" he said.

Seth used the grass and leaves to clean his boot. While doing so, Dean appeared next to him. The way he just showed up, without hesitation or playing annoying games, seemed suspiciously easy.

"I'm here," he even said, in an innocent, caring voice. "What's up?"

"Do you know where's Roman?"

"No."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Well," Seth explained while working on his shoes, "last time I saw him he was next to me in the tent, about to fall asleep. Then I guess I fell asleep," he reflected. Dean didn't react in any way so Seth decided to say more. "In the morning he was gone. Maybe he disappeared during the night, I have no idea. Where did _you_ go anyway?" he changed the topic, remembering how angry he was at Dean for that.

"I had other plans," Dean casually replied. When Seth seemed to be finished, Dean suggested, "Let's go look for Roman so that we can continue with our schedule."

"He's gotta be somewhere around here."

But he wasn't. He couldn't if he wanted to go with the plan he thought of. And it sounded pretty interesting in his head. Dean would be served some sweet revenge. Unfortunately, there was no time to explain the plan to Seth. Although, maybe it was better that he knew nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

"Maybe he has already returned to the tent," Dean uttered, and meant to end their unsuccessful search.

"Or he left just like you did last night." Seth knew that couldn't be it since the car – their only car – was on the same spot where Dean left it when he arrived that morning.

"Well, okay, bad for him. We're gonna have some fun and he's gonna miss it."

"Yeah, fun," Seth pronounced tiredly, "I don't care for that now. I'm starving. Do we have something to eat?"

"We could go to a restaurant," Dean suggested, but those were only empty words. "But we're not going to. What kind of a camping trip would that be?" he posed a rhetorical question.

"I feel like I'm being kept here against my will."

"Come on, Seth. We're gonna have fun."

Seth sighed. "Fine."

Dean's face lit up. "Follow me. I'm gonna show you something." He started walked toward the car.

"If it's not food, I'm gonna be disappointed." Without getting a response, Seth continued with that dialogue. "I seriously hope it's not another snake. Or any other animal." He got lost in his thoughts. "Unless it's dead and ready to be served." Saliva was quickly forming in his mouth. His vision was getting worse because all he saw were images of food. A chicken ran in front of him. Brain was playing games with him. As if it wasn't enough. Seth's brain clearly joined Dean's side. A thought crossed Seth's mind that he should have left when he had the chance. Except that in reality he never got the chance. How could have Roman succeeded? There was no vehicle around to help him escape. And he got no connection to call somebody to pick him up. Did he walk away or what? No, impossible. He still had to be around. But this way of thinking was interrupted by another image of a tasty animal. This time it was a deer.

"Oh, isn't it cute?" Dean mumbled.

"Wait, what?" Seth asked, dazed. "You see it too?"

"Sure," Dean hesitantly answered, confused why he shouldn't be able to see the forest creature.

"I thought I was hallucinating. I'm really hungry."

"So . . . you want an arch and an arrow?"

Seth looked at Dean. Are you kidding me, he had to be thinking.

"Or you'd prefer a wild boar?"

"No," Seth replied slowly, failing to believe he was actually having this conversation.

"You're right. It's early for hunting. It'd be better if we made it an afternoon activity." Seth didn't seem to approve of that, but that was something Dean didn't give a damn about. "I can add it . . .," he spoke while taking out a paper sheet. "Oh, look, it's already here." Dean briefly showed the paper to Seth. Seth, though, didn't care to look, nor Dean gave him sufficient time to go through the list of Dean's plans for those days off.

The smile stayed on Dean's face while he read the list to himself. "So what's next?" he asked.

"Breakfast," Seth shouted.

"That's not what I mean. There are activities for this morning."

"I'm not doing anything until I eat." He felt he needed to add, "Not that afterwards I'll become your puppet and do whatever you tell me to. Besides, Roman's not here."

"What happened with your enthusiasm?"

"I've already used all of it."

Dean had no other choice. He opened the trunk of the car and took out an old brown bag. When he unzipped it, Seth got a chance to notice some bottles, vegetables – vegetables? – and some other unrecognizable things, hopefully food. Then there was a small portable fridge.

"Yes!" Seth shouted when he saw hotdogs in there.

"Enjoy, buddy," Dean told him cheerfully. He needed Seth to be strong for all the activities that he had planned for that day. If only there was Roman to join them. That was really strange. How could he just disappear? Is it possible that he got lost in the woods or something? While Seth was eating, Dean was thinking. This wasn't normal. Roman wasn't one to get lost. To leave if he wasn't satisfied, yes, perhaps. But how? There was no way for him to leave, at least none that Dean could think of.

He watched Seth, who was sitting in front of him. Now Dean had to be careful. He couldn't allow the other one to disappear. What kind of leader would he be if he lost all his soldiers? And all the wasted time and energy preparing the schedule. Who would obey him then? Not that otherwise they would. No. But when he succeeded in keeping their mood somewhat above the I'm-gonna-kill-you level, at times he was able to control those two. According to that theory, reducing Seth's hunger could make him more obedient, even excited about the upcoming events.

"It's cold but it's so good," Seth mumbled while eating.

"Of course it's cold; it was in the fridge."

"So . . . when are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow," Dean replied, acting offended.

"You seriously wanna continue with this? We don't have Roman," Seth reminded him. "What if he got injured?"

Dean laughed. "Yeah, right."

"This is serious, Dean. Who knows how many of yours snakes are slithering around –"

"Whoa. I have only one snake, okay? And don't worry about it; it's alright."

"Jeez, Dean. Just . . . just . . . You _know_ what I'm talking about," Seth said. "And there are other snakes too."

"You really wanna continue with this _snake_ conversation?" Dean asked, daring him.

"With you? No. I'm just worried about Roman. Can't you understand that?"

"He'll come back. Like me," Dean said with a smile on his face. "Now are you finished with that?" he asked, but didn't give Seth any chance to reply. Arrogantly he closed the fridge saying _no more food for you_ and hurried Seth to finish the last bits of his hotdog before he'd take it away from him.

The trunk of the car got closed loudly but Dean kept the other bag with him. He transferred it into the tent and returned to Seth who was drinking beer.

Dean looked at the can in his hand. "Where did you get that?"

"From the car," Seth replied when he stopped the beer stream from flowing.

"Don't drink it!" With force Dean separated the can from Seth's right hand.

The way Dean said it made Seth spit out the liquid that he held in his mouth out of fear. "Is it poisoned?"

"No. You think I'd put poison into beer? I'm not _that_ cruel."

"So? What's the problem?"

"You have to be sober for the morning exercise."

"Exercise? Seriously? I just had breakfast."

Dean chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "_You_ couldn't wait."

Seth gave Dean a non-very friendly look and while striking him with the eyes he took the beer back. A few more sips wouldn't make any difference. But when he finished it, he realized it would be much better if hadn't drunk any beer. And also if had empty stomach. But so what. Still, the idea of going for a run made him happy. He wasn't sure was exactly Dean had in mind, but Seth got excited over the possibility of cross country running. "Follow me," he was the one to say.

"No," Dean protested. "I'm the leader."

"What's the leader without his sheep? Either come with me or stay here. But there's no way I'm gonna follow you."

That was a tough choice, but the range of possibilities was almost non-existent. "Fine." Dean sighed. "You can lead this time. But _only_ this time."

Seth hid his smile from Dean and kept the thought _yeah, make yourself believe that_ safely placed in his mind. Then confident with the new-gained control he took the responsibility of being the one in charge.


	8. Chapter 8

Ten minutes ago Dean lost sight of Seth. Not that he meant to do anything about it. Nor either of them cared. Seth enjoyed thinking that Dean couldn't keep up with his pace and Dean couldn't appear to have made peace with Seth's leadership.

The silence, though, made Seth wonder. Was Dean even following him? Or did he give up a while ago? Seth slowed down to give Dean a chance to get to him. But in a minute he was absolutely motionless, waiting.

"Dean?" Seth asked, turning around, trying to catch a glimpse of his co-runner.

"Follow the buzzards," was the answer that Seth didn't ask for but got.

"Dean?" Seth called again, more urgently this time.

"Follow the buzzards!" shouted an unknown voice. No, that wasn't Dean. But if Dean was anywhere around Seth, he had to hear it too.

"Who's there?" asked Seth. His voice trembled a bit. The trees all around him made it incredibly difficult for him to see anything. Anything other than the branches, leaves, grass, the essence of the forest. He couldn't see any person; yet he knew there had to be at least two.

"Dean," Seth shouted, as loud as he could. He needed some assistance. And he'd prefer a company in this situation. What the hell was going on?

"You're next," the strange, scary voice announced and Seth knew the words were directed at him.

Seth looked around one more time but the vision hadn't changed. He was alone in there. Instinctively he looked up at the skies. It offered him a sensation of freedom; it made him forget about the feeling of oppression and being surrounded. But that lasted only for a brief moment. The second his eyes refused obedience and looked ahead again, the discomfort, and even fear, returned.

"We're done?" asked Dean, coming from behind some trees, breathing heavily. He stopped running – or more like pretending to be running – and stood in front of confused Seth.

"You heard it?" Seth asked, referring to the experience he just went through.

"Heard what?"

"Was it you saying that?" That seemed a real possibility.

"Saying what?"

Seth angrily and desperately sighed. It was impossible to have a normal conversation with this guy.

"Follow the buzzards," explained Seth. He still hoped to solve the mystery and he'd appreciate if Dean cooperated.

"I will not," answered Dean, not quite serious.

"Dean!"

"What?" he asked as if he did nothing wrong.

"Alright." Seth breathed in and faked a smile. "A moment ago there was somebody saying 'follow the buzzards.' Was that you?"

"No. That was you."

"God!"

Dean answered, holding back the laughter, "I really don't think that was him."

"You . . . argh," Seth shouted. "I could _so_ punch in the face right now."

"Alright. Calm down, Seth. Chill, _please_."

"We might be in danger."

"Oh, oh, right. 'Cause, yeah . . . we're being _followed_ or something. Oh, hey, look," Dean started whispering, "somebody's watching you." Then he shouted, "Roman? You can stop hiding."

"You really think it's him?" Seth asked, having his doubts.

"Of course it's him. Unless you invited the Wyatts."

Dean kept his smile on, but Seth's face expression was far from relaxed.

"Nobody ever invites the Wyatts."

"And that's a pity," Dean replied.

Seth, clearly not satisfied with the direction of the conversation, looked away. Maybe he still hoped to spot the person making fun of them. Or whatever their goal was.

"What if something happened to Roman?" Seth was wondering.

"I'm sure something happened to him; he went crazy. He thinks he can freak us out. Like," now he spoke sarcastically, impersonating somebody identifiable to Seth – but probably nobody in particular, "oh, look at me, I know those two better than anybody else and I'll make them shit their pants. Yeah . . . guess what, Ro?" Dean shouted to make sure Roman'd hear him, "You're _not_! Poor try," he said and ended in laughter.

Seth just shook his head, worried look on his face. "You wouldn't believe you're in real danger even if somebody was pointing with a gun at your head."

"I'm not a coward, Seth. I'm not scared of anything. And definitely not this pathetic try to escape my boot camp."

Honestly, Seth was left speechless. Not that he was falling for the trick . . . well, maybe . . . He actually didn't know what to think. Was it real or was it an act? He'd swear, though, that the voice did not belong to Roman. Sure, they planned a revenge on Dean but that did not mean this was it. Maybe Roman had an idea in mind but something could have gone wrong and prevented him from realizing it. And – now Seth's brain was working full-time – there was a chance that somebody was in the forest with them. It probably wasn't the Wyatt Family, but how about some freaks? With the world full of people with low intellect, somebody might have fallen for the words of Bray Wyatt and followed the buzzards – or whatever it was they believed they were doing. Maybe they believed they were realizing Bray's will, or getting rid of the enemies. Anyhow, now this maniac might be chasing the former opponents of the Wyatt Family for reasons even he doesn't know. And if that's true, they really could be in danger. The words "you're next" returned to Seth's mind. He or they already got Roman, now they were targeting him.

"You're still thinking about it," noticed Dean. Instantly he smiled. "You're not gonna make me disband this. Just because I lost Roman. Losses are allowed," Dean said emphatically.

But Seth wouldn't let it go. Suddenly he realized, "What if . . . what if what's happening now has something to do with that incident from a year ago?"

"What incident?"

"You know, the one after Raw or some other event when there were problems in our rooms with electricity and all of that."

"Hmm," Dean seemed to be giving it more importance now. But that impression quickly disappeared. "No, I'm sure that was a joke too."

"You may not notice this in the little, weird world _you're_ living in, but there actually are people that hate us."

"What are you talking about? We're lovable," Dean joked.

"There are people who think wrestling is real."

"And there are people who think it's fake. Well, I guess, none of them are right."

Seth smiled, although only for effect, "Some fans take it seriously. Too seriously. If not before, I've learned that when I turned heel. I know I've made enemies. And I'm pretty sure we as a group have made a few too. Moreover, honestly, you think nobody knows that we're here? That nobody could stalk us to this place? And this is a quite secluded place; it wouldn't be too difficult to deal with us here."

"Deal with us?" Dean repeated, laughing. "Who in the world would want to start a fight with us?"

"Who said anything about fighting? You don't see what they're doing? Separating us. You know, divide and conquer."

"Oh, Seth, my dear little Sethie." Seth frowned at that nickname. "Haven't you learned anything? Separation doesn't make us any weaker. We're just as strong on our own as we're together. It's just that it's more comfortable not having to deal with the things alone."

"So what now? You have a plan?"

"Why would I need plan?"

"Because we need to find Roman," Seth reminded him. He had this feeling that Dean kept forgetting about the third participant of their getaway.

"We don't _need_ to find him. Besides, you always find things when you're not looking for them."

"So you suggest waiting?"

That voice from before interrupted their conversation. "Follow the buzzards," it said again.

Dean seemed to have welcomed its return, though. It brought an idea to his mind and a smile to his face. "Why wait?" he asked quickly and then ran after the sound.


	9. Chapter 9

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Seth shouted. But although he disagreed with Dean's strategy, which appeared to be actually _following the buzzards_, he did the exact same thing. So now they were pursuing the unknown person, somebody who probably they have never met before and who might pose threat to their lives . . . but so what? It could be fun. Fun was a thought that crossed Dean's mind. Seth in no way considered this a way to amuse himself.

_Who are we actually following?_ wondered Seth, but fast pace prevented him from asking this question. He just knew that the person in front of them knew about them. That person – now he was sure it was only one person – tried to escape, but if there was any justice in the world, they would catch him. And they were positive it was a man. His style was fast and loud. The steps were impactful. Besides, they couldn't hear any heavy breathing so he was probably in a good shape. But so were they. The odds of catching the criminal were good.

That was the theory. In practice, they were losing. At least Seth. Thinking at the same time as he was running proved to be multitasking that he wasn't able to handle very well. Now Seth was the one who lost the sight of Dean. Actually, he never saw him after he started off his mission. Dean was fast because this was real to him. Real game. Not the practice they had when Seth was leading. Now that Dean had a goal, he turned leisure jogging into sprinting. Yet the determination did not suffice. Whoever was the person he was chasing, that guy was not an amateur.

In the end, Seth got lost. He couldn't see Dean or that secret stalker, or how to call him. The noise disappeared as well. Just the sound of the wind passing through the leaves. But he felt safe. Dean would get that guy after all, wouldn't he? Hopefully. If only Seth knew where they were. What if Dean needed help? No. He never needs help. It will all be alright.

Seth sat down. There wasn't much to do since he had no idea where he was. In the middle of the forest, that was where he was. With low chances of getting out of there.

"Dean?" Seth tried his luck and called. Of course nobody answered him. It was funny how in those moments you think about how everything could have been different because of one small, seemingly unimportant detail. Like if they didn't make Dean go away last night. Dean would stay, they'd finish their story-telling and in the morning they'd all wake up under the same roof. Seth laughed. The main reason for this, though, was probably desperation. But he wasn't weak. He didn't need those two to do something about his situation. As Dean put it, separation doesn't make them any weaker. Seth had a brain of his own. So no more sitting around, waiting for something to happen. He stood up and looked around. Which way to go? Left? South? Or right, where those steps were coming from? Wait, what steps?

"Dean?" That was the annoying thing about him; even if it was him, he wouldn't tell. Apparently it's too difficult to say, "Yeah, Seth, it's me." But Seth was brave enough to go ahead, in the way somebody was coming from. "Dean!" Seth called again, one last time, he promised himself. Seth felt a little uncomfortable, but he wouldn't run away. There was no reason to. "Roman," Seth shouted, too loud perhaps.

"Shh," Roman replied quickly.

"What's going on? Where have you been?" In an instant, Seth came to sudden realization. "Was that you? That voice that kept saying 'Follow the buzzards?'"

"Of course it was me." Roman didn't appear to be in mood for talking, though. But he was interested and therefore asked, "Did Dean believe it?"

"Well, he actually thought it was you."

"Dammit!"

"But I believe I might have convinced him it was some stalker, a fanatic obsessed with the Wyatts."

"Cool," Roman said, and smiled.

"So . . . why? And where's Dean?"

"Around, I believe. And why, you ask? You'll see why. Now I need you to do something, okay?"

"Sure. Whatever," said Seth, meaning _if it's really necessary_.

"Scream."

"What?"

"Just scream!" Roman commanded him. He appeared to be in hurry, and he really was. There was more planned and if Dean saw them right now, it would be all pointless. "Scream and then we'll run."

"Again?"

Roman sighed. He didn't expect there to be so much trouble with Seth's obedience. This was all in his interest too. So he better just do what he's asked to do. "Look, Seth," Roman said sort of calmly. He explained, "either you do what I tell you _by yourself_ or I'll carry you. And . . . I guess I'll find something that'll make you scream." His tone would make any regular person frightened enough to obey. Seth still wavered though.

"I just . . . how . . . what . . . I can't scream!"

"So with a little help it is," Roman pronounced slowly while picking up a stick. He made it clear that his next intention was to poke Seth with it. He even got to start but Seth quickly changed his mind.

"Fine! I'll do it. Just give me a second." He cleared his throat but the sound wouldn't come out of his mouth. He simply wasn't used to screaming like a little girl.

Unsatisfied Roman encouraged him by violence. Not that it really hurt Seth or anything. But it was uncomfortable and demeaning. So Seth screamed as good as he could.

"Omg, Seth, not like I'm about to rape you."

Seth tried again. This time he managed to sound manlier and he made it louder, too. Roman smiled for a brief moment. Then he addressed Seth, "Now run as fast as you can because Dean cannot see us."

Seth was confused. Okay, he knew he had to run. But why? Where? How far? What the hell was going on? Seth thought Roman better had some plan because he wasn't going to run forever. Fortunately he knew Roman. He wouldn't do something crazy without having a reason. Could this be the revenge? Dammit! Seth seriously needed to stop thinking while running.

"Stop," Roman said as soon as he himself stopped running. "He's not following us."

"And that's good?" Seth wasn't sure.

"Don't know. I just hope he heard you. Screw it! I thought he'd be running after us."

"You really can't count on Dean's reactions."

Roman sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He looked behind him as if he could spot Dean. He knew he couldn't. That was good actually. Just . . . he wished to know if Dean had any idea what was going on.

"What now?" Seth wanted to know.

"Let me think about it."

"Wouldn't it be easier if we met him and all just made up?"

"No. The revenge is necessary. And it'll be fun, you'll see."

"But we don't know where he is and what he's doing. He might still be looking for you, or that freak you pretended to be."

Roman smiled. "That's alright. As long as he believes that there's somebody going after him, after all of us, it's fine. It actually doesn't matter if they already got you or not. He just needs to get scared. For real."

"You can't scare him."

"We'll see about that. After all, how would _you_ feel if you were left alone in the middle of nowhere, with your friends probably in danger . . . I'm pretty sure that at some point he'll realize how grave the situation is."

"So now we'll just wait for him to get frightened. And then what?"

"Then we'll kidnap him," Roman avidly answered the question.


	10. Chapter 10

"How exactly do you mean to accomplish it? You think he's gonna stay around when we're supposedly not here anymore . . .?" On Seth's face an expression of confusion was building up. He'd welcome Roman's idea but he saw too many flaws in it. For example, there was a car which would allow Dean to escape very easily. They counted on Dean being worried and scared because of his friends being gone – but what made them think he'd even care? With a plan like this, you have to get Dean to cooperate, to certain extent, but with a person so unpredictable, this was difficult to accomplish. Yet Roman didn't seem to worry about those things that bothered Seth.

"First, we need to get to the car and slash a tire," Roman by chance answered one Seth's unspoken questions.

"Right," Seth agreed in a rather sarcastic manner. "'Cause we don't want to get out of here . . . ever."

"There's a spare tire. Which we'll steal," Roman added.

Seth stood there with his mouth not quite closed, wondering how much thinking Roman had already put into this. This plan sounded big. It wasn't just _let's wait for Dean to appear and put a bag over his head._ No. This would be a lot more sophisticated. Still not quite right, but Dean deserved this. And not just for this trip. For years of acting childishly, making jokes that only he found funny and every single lie he made up and would in the future.

"Let's go," Roman said.

"Wait, aren't you gonna tell the rest of the plan?"

"Not yet. First we need to make sure he doesn't escape. Then, when we know he's stuck here with us, I'll continue."

"I just don't want to be the one who doesn't know anything," Seth reasoned.

"Don't worry. Dean's gonna be the one who knows nothing. For a change."

Seth sighed. There was nothing more for him to do know. But although Roman was so kind that he'd made him part of the plan, Seth felt a little bit useless. Why didn't he come up with something like this? The most important things that happened were of either Dean's or Roman's initiative. And it made Seth looked like a weak part of their group. Somebody not quite as important. And he hated that. He wasn't weak and he wasn't without ideas either. Why should he be the one to follow the others? It somehow made him feel less manly. And that way of thinking made him a bit angry.

"Something's bothering you?" Roman noticed, even though he appeared fully focused on the car they were approaching.

"No," Seth politely replied, but the way he said it – heavily, indifferently – made Roman suspicious about what was going on Seth's mind.

"Do you think it's too much to kidnap him?" Roman searched for the reason behind Seth's growing apathy.

"No, I don't mind. It's just that," he hesitated. Would it be even clever to bring up that topic? "It's nothing really," Seth ended the conversation. Fortunately, Roman was too excited about the vandalism he was working on to question Seth's honesty.

"Alright. Grab this then," Roman said, and handed him the bag he just took out of the car.

Roman opened the bag and searched for a screwdriver or something sharp. "It should be somewhere in here," he commented, while Seth put the bag down on the ground.

He reached into his pocket and took out a Swiss army knife. Without any difficulty he opened it and cut into the tire. Then – before Roman even noticed – he went over to the back of the car to get that spare tire. "Where should I put this?" he asked.

"_What?_ What?" Roman looked up. "When did you –"

"Now," Seth answered. "So where should we take it? I mean we don't have much time, do we? Dean can be here any minute."

"You're right." Roman quickly closed the bag and put it in the car on the same spot where it was before. He turned to Seth, "Just put it underneath the car."

"Really? That's it?"

"Trust me, he won't look there."

"Okay," Seth replied and did as told. He wasn't convinced but he trusted Roman enough and certainly did not want to start an argument. "What's the next step?"

"We disappear."

Roman started running toward the forest they left not that long ago. Seth followed him. "This would be better done at night," he remarked.

"Yeah, well, we're doing it now, okay?" Roman replied, a little irritated. Like I don't know, he was thinking.

Roman stopped close to the edge of the forest. "From here we should be able to hear him."

"We don't know where he is," Seth whispered, just in case.

"His next steps will be to the car, that's for sure."

Seth watched carefully the area around them. He expected Dean to appear next to the car shortly. But what would happen then, he wondered. It wasn't like he'd received some instructions from Roman.

"What happens when he comes there?" Seth asked.

Roman didn't answer his question immediately. He seemed too focused or maybe he just wanted to add to the tension. "Nothing," he said in his deep voice, and continued, "Not yet. Even for him it takes time to go crazy."

This got Seth's attention. "What do you think will happen?"

"That's irrelevant, really. We both know we cannot predict what he'll do, and that means we'll have to improvise."

"I thought you had a plan," Seth said pretty loudly because he was angry.

"Shh," Roman hushed him. "I do have a plan. A couple of plans, in fact. Which one we'll go with depends on Dean. We'll see how he reacts. He might want to leave but as well he might want to fight back."

"He wouldn't know who the person behind this is."

"You think that'd stop him? No," Roman said, and smiled. "If he wants to revenge us, he'll go after the person who did all this. That's the _angry Dean longing for revenge_ scenario."

"I'm looking forward to finding out if we really matter to him that much."

"Shh," Roman said when he noticed Dean walking toward the car. "You're about to find out."

When he stood in front of the car, he stopped and looked around. He couldn't see them. Therefore he couldn't see anybody, because there was nobody else. So it was him and him only. He and the car that he looked at again. Carefully, very carefully, he came closer to it and opened the door. He did not enter it, just leaned in to . . . well, the guys couldn't really tell what he was doing there. Maybe looking for something.

"Does he have a phone?"

"I think his phone is in the car but there's no reception here, so it's not like he could call somebody."

Seth knew Roman was right but still he felt a little paranoid and thought that if Dean wanted to make a call, he'd be able to do so.

"What is he doing there?" Roman wondered.

"I don't know. But to me, it doesn't seem like he's trying to escape." Seth chuckled. "Maybe he really isn't scared. I mean, if he was, he'd be already finding out about that flat tire."

"That only makes it more interesting."

"We've ruined a tire for nothing," Seth remarked.

"Doesn't matter," Roman replied, his eyes set on Dean, who was still searching for something in the car. "Come on, Dean, let it go, it's not there. What you're looking for is right here," he whispered, hoping for Dean to move on and go after them.

"Look," Seth uttered when he noticed Dean finally leaving the car and closing the door.

"Yeah, that's right, there's no escape. So embrace your fear –" Roman spoke, but suddenly stopped.

A terrified look appeared on both Roman's and Seth's face. They certainly weren't counting on this. Dean had a gun.

"Oh, shit!"


	11. Chapter 11

Roman wanted it to feel serious for Dean, but definitely not like this. Not like this.

"Since when does he even own a gun?" Roman wondered. One could still see in his eyes that he was frightened.

"This is not good. This is so not good." Seth was freaking out. Yet he made sure he was quiet enough not to enable Dean to notice him. But he couldn't pretend nothing was happening. The conditions had changed. He wasn't willing to go along with the plan. "We need to get out here," he said to Roman. "Dean has to see us before someone gets hurt." With all seriousness, this situation wasn't part of the game anymore. The risk was too high. "Come on," he persuaded Roman who remained in the previous position, kneeling behind a bush, hiding, watching Dean, now more carefully than before. "Let's go," Seth raised his voice. He didn't even look at Roman; he simply expected him to stand up and go with him. To surrender.

"No. We're staying here."

"You gotta be kidding me! He's got a gun!" How could Roman be forgetting about that? Or did not care? Was he willing to risk their lives just to prove his point?

"I know, I can see it, Seth. Now calm down, please." Roman's voice was surprisingly calm, even cold. As if this wasn't happening to him.

"How . . . what?! I'm leaving, now!"

Roman grabbed Seth's arm and pulled it, which made Seth get on the ground right next to him. "No!"

"You're seriously commanding me what to do?"

"I'm just taking care of you. With _this_ attitude, you're gonna get hurt. Even without Dean's help. Besides, he's not gonna shoot us."

"What makes you so sure?"

Roman did not say anything. He smiled, though, which to Seth seemed as underestimating the graveness of the situation. He did not agree with Roman at all right now. If it was up to him, what he'd do if Roman let him, he would stop hiding, walk toward Dean – even with his hands up – and submit to him. Say the truth, that it had been them all along, and prevent something terrible from happening. Because Dean was dangerous even without a weapon. Now . . . this could end really badly. For all of them.

"You yourself said that Dean is unpredictable. That you simply can't know what he's gonna do. You don't think that anymore or what?" Seriously, what was Roman thinking?

"No, you're absolutely right. We can't know what he's going to do. But we know what he's _not_ going to do. He's not going to shoot."

"I don't want to be part of this," Seth admitted to Roman.

Roman looked at Seth and told him, "Then stay here." Then Roman stood up, looked to the left and started running while screaming in a strange voice, "You're next."

Seth felt urge to go after him – to stop him, not to join him – but it seemed more logical to stay right there. He meant it when he said that he didn't want to be part of this thing. But Roman's attitude surprised him. Was he aware of what he was doing? Because right now he was running with Dean not that far behind him. Of course Dean heard him, but that was what Roman wanted. Did he want to get shot as well?

Think, Seth said to himself. There's no way you're staying here doing nothing. So you have two options; join Roman's side or join Dean's side. If you go after Dean, you'll be able to control his actions, make sure he won't hurt anybody. Of course only in case he knows it's you who's following him.

But while Seth was forcing his mind to come up with a plan that would counter his friends' plans, both guys gained significant lead. He wasn't able to see them anymore. So what the heck, the important thing now was to change that.

He ran for good five minutes but he was less and less sure that he was going in the right direction. Not only he couldn't see them, he couldn't even hear them. Just the noise of the nature, the animals. No human beings. But the silence was good, right? If something went wrong, they wouldn't be quiet.

Seth stopped to focus. Surrounded by trees he tried to hear something. He looked around, making sure he didn't miss anything. He wouldn't admit he had got lost for he believed if he had, they had too. And they had to be around. Just listen to the steps. He turned his head but it was yet another animal. A young deer. Another sound came from the other side. What was it? Seth ran toward the place where he thought he heard the sound coming from. _Roman, Dean,_ he almost shouted but he managed to control the urge. If they were near, he had to find out without asking. And be careful, he reminded himself for that was the most important thing at the moment.

With the anticipation of spotting at least one of them he slowed down. He couldn't allow them to see him. Well, it'd probably be okay of Roman noticed him, but that was irrelevant since they weren't there. He kept on moving. Quietly. With great caution.

"Surrender!" somebody shouted. They had to be close now, but Seth wasn't able to tell to whom the voice belonged. Somehow it made sense for both of the guys to say it to the other one.

Okay, enough, Seth said to himself. Be brave, he encouraged himself and added, you need to take charge of the situation. And he did. Or was working on that. With all the braveness he could gather he continued and finally got close enough to them to be able to see them. Dean at least. But it was certain Roman was there too. Probably hiding, and that was a good thing for him to do. Dean was grasping the gun, pointing with it at something – possibly at Roman, hopefully not. Did Dean see something that Seth didn't? Seth kept safe distance, otherwise he might get in danger, but there was a chance Dean saw more – a figure perhaps that was in reality Roman. What would it take for Dean to open fire? An insignificant movement maybe. Seth couldn't let that happen. He was responsible, and if something went wrong, he'd be guilty as much as the other two. But what was there to do? Admit the truth. How, though? Yell, "Dean!" How experienced was Dean with holding a gun? That was an important question. Because he might simply get scared, annoyed, and shoot. Seth saw the worst possible scenario in every single step he might take. And that was understandable. He couldn't risk. On the other hand, the gun may not even be loaded, or it can even be a fake gun. But that's all what if.

His legs were not shaking and neither were his hands. He felt fear but he was strong enough not to let it take control of him. Roman and Dean were not scared; this appeared to be a game for them. Though youngest, Seth felt wisest of the three. Seeing the reality of it and the threat that Dean's instability presented.

"I'm counting to three," Dean said with a strong voice. Finally, it would end. But how?

"Follow the buzzards," the voice that wouldn't even Seth connect to Roman replied.

"Never," Dean refused. "One."

_Don't be stupid._ Seth wished to be able to send those thoughts to Roman. _Surrender or run away._ But nobody moved. The whole place fell silent. At least that's how it felt for them.

"Two," the counting continued.

The intervals were long enough for Roman to have chance to do as asked but not long enough for Seth to think rationally. He had to interfere, that's all he knew. Before he'd say three he had to do something. Anything. His instincts were what guided him in the end. When he picked up a small rock and threw it at his best friend to prevent him from doing something stupid.

Dean couldn't see him, he was focused on the unknown person in front of him and couldn't know that there was somebody behind him. He couldn't defend himself.

But the ticking bomb had been disposed of. The gun fell out of Dean's hand right after the rock hit his head. He fell to the ground. Unconscious.


	12. Chapter 12

Seth's breathing intensified. "Shit! Fuck!" His hands jumped to his face to cover the mouth and stop the cursing. Horror appeared in his eyes. "What have I done?" he cried, as he ran toward the corpse . . . Dean. Not a corpse. Dean. He's okay; he'll be fine, Seth was persuading himself. Then he collapsed next to Dean's body.

Finally Roman could stop hiding. But the expression on his face was so different. The whole attitude . . . He came clapping. "Good job," he applauded Seth. "Nice shot," he enthusiastically added.

"Have you lost your mind? I might have killed him!"

But Roman just laughed. "With _that_ thing?" His eyes searched for the little rock that hit Dean earlier, but he was unable to locate it. "I wouldn't worry about him," he said a bit more seriously. Then he moved on to the next step as his plan was still in progress. In his pocket he had been hiding a rope and tape which he now placed on the ground in front of him.

"What- What are you doing?"

"Well, we need to tie up his arms and feet," Roman explained as he was trying to turn Dean around to be able to realize the task more easily. He found an opposition in Seth though, who stopped him and questioned his negligence of Dean's current state.

"You can't do that."

"Look, Seth, I'd love to have a discussion to prove you wrong but there's no time. We need to do this before he comes to himself."

"We?"

"I thought you wanted to do this. Why suddenly you have a problem with being a little immoral toward Dean?" There was no eye contact on Roman's part during the time he was talking. He was busy with tying up Dean's arms behind his back. Besides, he finally – as if none of the guys noticed or paid attention to it before – picked up the gun that was the reason behind current situation. Roman for a second let go of Dean to focus on the weapon that was supposed to be used against him.

Seeing the gun again, Seth remembered what he did for Roman. "Yeah . . . and you could have at least _thanked_ me for saving your ass," Seth angrily said to Roman.

"Hmm," Roman laughed, not reacting to Seth's comment but to the object in his hand. "I give Dean one point for authenticity. I really did not think he'd threaten me with a _real_ gun." Roman looked genuinely amused. The smile did not disappear from his face even as he was taking out the bullets.

"Who said it wasn't loaded again?"

"I am wrong sometimes," Roman admitted. "So what?"

"Are you high or something?" Seth simply couldn't understand that Roman wasn't getting the seriousness of it. He might have got killed. Yet he was laughing.

"Seth, Seth, Seth," Roman repeated in a parental voice. "Just because someone holds a loaded gun does not mean he will shoot."

"Fortunately . . . _for you_," Seth added emphatically, "we'll never know what would have happened."

"Pointless, time-wasting discussion, check," Roman said. "Now let's get to work. Tie up his legs and I'll take care of this pretty yet unbelievably annoying mouth of his."

Catching the rope that Roman threw at him, Seth only for a second questioned the morality of what they were doing. But here were the facts: Dean was alive and in good enough condition to receive the punishment he deserved. That was all that mattered. Revenge had to come one day, so why not this sunny, cloudless day when they were alone and Dean was left to their mercy? It was true; there were no witnesses and nobody who could help him, not to say save him. He won't even know what got him. He won't see anything, as Roman just finished taping his eyes; he let go of the initial idea to put a bag over his head which could be seen by some – ehm, Seth – as crossing the line. And the best part is that even if Dean ever wanted to tell anybody what his soon-to-be-ex-best friends did to him, people either wouldn't believe him or they'd think it was deserved, as it really was.

So Seth quickly stopped hesitating and joined Roman's side. He helped with the legs and even adjusted the tape over Dean's mouth.

"And now? Do you want us to transfer him somewhere?" Seth asked for further instructions.

"Nah, no. I mean, it doesn't really matter, does it? He has no idea where he is. Right now he does not even have an idea that he_ is._"

"Will we wait for him to wake up or what?" Seth checked the head injury that he caused. There was some blood but at this moment it had all dried. Something – some angel inside of Seth's mind – was still persuading him that he should just get the ambulance to take Dean to the hospital for checking the internal bleeding or something but the devil took charge of Seth and implanted an excitement for the moment when Dean wakes up. Actually – he got another idea – there was a way to bring the awakening faster. "If we removed the tape off his mouth real fast . . ." He let it sink in Roman's mind, which did not take long.

Roman smiled. "I like the way you're thinking." Having decided on the next step, Roman added, "Can _I_ count to three now?" After Seth's eager nod, Roman initiated the countdown. "One . . ." He enjoyed the counting but, unlike Dean earlier, he had no reason to do it slowly . . . And he really just wanted to see what Dean'll do when he notices what a crappy situation he's in. "Two," he went on and took one deep breath before finishing, "Three!"

Seth removed the piece of tape that had been covering Dean's mouth until now. He accomplished his goal to be precise and hurtful. Almost a joyful shout came out of his mouth when Dean came to senses and screamed. There was a tear in Seth's eye, and he was sure there was at least one in Dean's eye as well, but due to pain not to the awesome feeling of success.

But Seth had to be careful from now on. It was time to tone down the emotions and not let a single whisper out. He didn't want to ruin it for Dean.

Roman and Seth shared a look; from that moment onwards Roman would be the one to speak while Seth's job was to keep silent. When he thought about it, it'd be better if he wouldn't even let his presence be known. There was supposedly only one guy, one enemy. If they were two, Dean could realize it was them. They couldn't risk.

After that emotional scream Dean controlled himself better. He did not speak, only investigated what was happening. He quickly realized something was blocking his view and that his arms and legs were tied up.

"I told you you were next," Roman started. His voice transformed into the one he had been using before. It worked earlier when nobody recognized it so there were good chances Dean wouldn't realize it was him this time either.

That sentence brought a memory to Dean's mind. He had a gun. Now it was gone. But he was pointing at him with it, wasn't he? "What happened?" he asked out loud.

"What happened, you ask? I got your friends and now I got you as well. I'm gonna do the same thing to you as I did to them."

"What did you do to them?" Dean's temper rose. Furiously he tried to free his limbs but he failed. Roman and Seth did good job in preventing him from escaping.

Roman wanted to laugh for effect but wasn't sure if that wouldn't be something that might unveil his true identity. "I got rid of them," he simply answered.

Illogically calmly, Dean said, "See, I don't believe you." He didn't appear scared at all. Not anymore if before, for a brief moment, he did. He saw nothing but he was able to keep his tranquility. And that was one thing Roman and Seth did not expect. What kind of shit he went through when being tied up, seeing nothing, knowing there's a guy threatening him, who's moreover in hold of his gun, doesn't upset him? Yes; maybe Dean was used to this kind of stuff. Or . . . he knew what was happening. Or . . . there was a third option which Seth realized when he noticed Dean's arms suddenly loosening after he cut the rope with a pocket knife.

Seth signaled the situation to Roman who immediately intervened. First, he took the knife away from him. Second, he moved himself so that his knees were putting pressure on Dean's hands. Third, he grabbed the gun – making sure Dean heard the sound of it being loaded – and pressed it against Dean's head. Then Roman whispered in Dean's ear, "Do you believe me now? Or do I need to fire?"


	13. Chapter 13

Even Seth got scared at the sound of the handgun being loaded – although he knew there were no bullets in it – and Roman's creepily persuasive voice that followed made the situation tenser and appearing as though the blackmailing was real. It made sense for Dean to feel the same way Seth did in that immediate moment. But has the act really had the same impact on Dean?

Neither Roman nor Seth could tell. Dean was great at handling his emotions and making them as hidden for the crowd as they could be. Or else, he faked them. But in this particular moment, after the tense minute past, he showed his true face.

"You have nothing to threaten me with," Dean argued. The courage that he appeared to have was hard to understand. Didn't Roman just show that he had a gun that he was ready and willing to use? Didn't he mention that he had already taken care of the rest of the people that participated in this psycho trip? What was it that made Dean stand tall, proud and confident?

Roman's eyes found their way to Seth. He was losing and needed a back-up plan. Another one. Pretending to be threatening Dean did not work. But he couldn't take it very far. They were friends and this was not real – it would never get too real – in no way he was actually going to hurt him. But what was there left to do? He couldn't talk much either because at any moment Dean could realize it was him, that the voice belonged to Roman, even though it sounded a bit, or a lot, differently. He searched for reassurance in Seth . . . who couldn't speak up even if he had something that could help him. Roman was on his own. But he wouldn't give up just yet.

Calmly, in a steady voice, Dean broke the silence. "Why don't you let me see your face?" he asked. And added a reason for it, too. "If you were going to kill me, which appears to me is what you're trying to make me believe will happen, there's no danger in showing me who you really are." The real danger here, though, was Dean's logic. Even in this life-threatening situation, Dean was calm and able to think.

Feeling cornered, Roman acted spontaneously and decided to go with the first idea that popped into his head. He pulled the trigger. There was a sigh of relief as Dean jerked and shivered. Now that was a reaction that Roman wanted to see. He smiled and did not notice Seth's frightened face watching him. When Seth heard the sound he totally forgot that nothing would happen because the gun was already without any cartridge. It was as real to him as to Dean. For that second that lasted longer than usual.

"Now that one was empty, but how about the next one?"

Dean swallowed loudly. He did not feel like provoking the person with the weapon anymore. "What do you want from me?" he asked. His voice did not sound very confident.

"Nothing," Roman replied. To make sure Dean's fear would not disappear he got the knife that he previously took from Dean and started moving it slowly on Dean's neck. "Actually, I might have here something that you could do for me."

"If I do, will you free me?"

"I might."

"That's not good enough," Dean protested.

"Do you think you're in position to argue with me?"

Dean unhappily sighed. The anger was building up in him but he couldn't do anything. He was threatened with a handgun and a knife now, too. His view was obstructed, legs were tied up, and his arms . . . they were no longer tied with a tape. Sure, Roman had them under control but only to a certain point. It wasn't impossible for Dean to do something about it. Especially when Roman couldn't hold that position forever. He would get uncomfortable, and when he does Dean gets a chance to fight for his life.

For now Dean decided to accede to Roman's conditions. "So what is it that I could do that may or may not set me free?"

"You see," Roman started talking while getting the rope and working on tying Dean's arms again, preventing Dean from realizing his great escape plan. "I've been working on the plan to get rid of you and your former partners for a long time."

"Where are they?"

Roman patted Dean's head. "Shh. That doesn't really matter, does it?"

Dean's anger rose. He wanted to get the answers. And, not of any lesser importance, his hands were back to being safely kept behind his back and there was no way he could get out of there.

"Just tell me if they are still alive," Dean demanded.

The answer did not come immediately but came. "Yes. I haven't killed them. Yet. But whether they survive or not depends on you."

Fortunately enough, Dean did not question the whole idea of Roman's demands. He noticed the flaws like formerly he didn't want anything from Dean, now he were going to ask him a favor, before he said that he had got rid of Seth and himself but now he claims they're still alive. Well, this was Roman's first time as a kidnapper so, with a little practice, he would get better at this. Right now he was glad that Dean's logical thinking had diminished.

"So as I was saying," Roman continued, feeling a little uneasy with the fact that he talked more than he'd like. But he had to. There was no other way. "I've been working on the plan to get rid of you and your former allies for a long time," he repeated, "therefore I've been too busy to . . . you know. . . . Let's just say, I've been single for a while. And . . ." Roman made a significant pause. "Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Dean's facial expression revealed he had an idea.

Seth had his hand on the mouth and sparkle in his eyes. It suddenly became difficult not to uncover his presence. Holding back the laughter was the only goal he had at the moment.

"It doesn't matter if you don't have any experience in this area . . . or do you?" Roman asked, now starting smiling as well.

Dean remained silent. But it wasn't hard to tell that he felt really uncomfortable.

"Having tape over your eyes will be to your advantage. You don't have to see anything; you just do it." Roman added, "If you want your friends to live." Roman started unzipping his fly to persuade Dean – if he had any doubts – that he meant his words. "I want you to think of your friends when you do it."

"No," Dean refused, turning his head.

"Come on, you might enjoy it as well."

"Will. Not. Happen."

Roman continued; he believed he could make him say yes. How awesome that would be. He could make fun of Dean because of this forever. All that was needed to do was to persuade him. Threaten him or lure him; the means don't matter.

He got the knife again. But this time the strategy was a bit different. He started at the neck, as before, but he continued south.

"Please," Roman turned to begging. "I may even repay you," he proposed. A thought struck his mind that _this_ might be used against _him_ in the future, but it's not like it's actually gonna happen. And Roman knew this wasn't real. On the other hand, if Dean said yes, all three guys would know he meant it and he was willing to do the job that was required of him. That it was to save his and his friends' lives would be omitted in any future storytelling.

"How about if you touch it first? To know what it feels like?" Roman suggested.

Seth was biting his lips. This was too good to be true. He became impatient anticipating Dean's surrender. Would he reach for it? His changing facial expression may be saying that he might.

"Come on, you know you want it," Roman kept encouraging Dean.

But Seth started wondering if Roman wasn't one that wanted it too. Especially when he noticed a bulge in his pants. That was something Seth couldn't handle. He burst out laughing.


	14. Chapter 14

Everything was ruined. "Seth?" Dean correctly guessed. It was strange how he identified Seth immediately and based only on short laughter but couldn't recognize Roman while was had been talking to him the whole time.

But Roman did not give a damn about anything odd about the situation. All that mattered to him was that Seth spoiled the surprise. All the hard work going to waste. That did not make Roman happy at all. So he pointed the gun at Seth and pulled the trigger.

Seth stood in amazement, or rather shock, with mouth open. "Did you just shoot at me?" Seth asked, sounding, and being, reasonably annoyed. "You think this is a fucking game?" Yes, maybe Roman took it a bit too far and let his emotions get the best of him but he got a good reason, in a way.

"What's going on?" Dean interrupted the conflict, the standoff between Seth and Roman. His face expression went from fear to confusion to _let-me-fucking-see_. His eyes may have been closed but he was positive it was Seth who laughed. Also he was the one who posed those questions. And it did not sound as though he was in real danger. Irritation, not fear, was what defined his tone. Of course. The gun did not fire. That meant that the chances of it having any bullets in it were slight. That meant . . . "Roman?" Dean asked. His curious voice changed when he remembered what his "friend" was just about to make him do. "Roman!" he shouted, and was furiously shaking his body to get out of the enchainment.

Seth, still irritated by what Roman tried to do to him, was the one to set Dean free. For Roman it was too soon to admit the surrender. But the reality was that Dean knew what was happening by now anyway. There was no point in denying so Seth took the tape off Dean's eyes.

"I should have known," Dean exclaimed annoyed. His eyes automatically looked at Roman and not his savior. He needed to give Roman a brief hateful look first. Then he focused on Seth who was untying the rope binding his hands. Dean told Seth, "_You _are angry because he shot at you? He was pointing gun at me the whole time, he fired, and he almost cut my throat." Speaking of what almost had happened, Dean remembered, "He almost killed me when he threw some stone at me!"

"Yeah, that was actually me," Seth admitted awkwardly. "I'm sorry about that. I did not mean to hurt you."

Apology or no apology, Dean got angered at him. And he hasn't even seen yet what the injury looked like. He knew there was blood. It hurt too, but he was able to ignore the pain. What he couldn't ignore was something else that happened, or might have happened during Dean's struggle for survivor. That was the reason why he let go of resentment for Seth and replaced it with anger for Roman. Trying to kill someone was one thing but . . . "Roman was going to make me suck his dick!" That was the bottom line. The fact that mattered to Dean the most. And at that point Dean discovered what made the guys break the operation, why Seth laughed in the first place.

Roman meant to achieve the point where he'd one day be able to say, "Hey, remember that time Dean was going to give me a blowjob?" But instead he achieved something he did not really want to. Unfortunately, Seth and Dean were not letting that go. Dean cheered up when he could say, "I made you hard. The idea of me giving you a blowjob turned you on!"

"No!" Roman was vigorously refusing that although the facts were against him. "It's just that . . ." It wasn't that simple to come up with something to justify what was happening.

"I know, I know. It's just that you've been single for a long time," Dean repeated the made-up lie that Roman said when he was pretending to be Dean's kidnapper. "You've been going after us for so long . . . hey, maybe you'd act the say way if Seth was the object of your imagination. Or do you find me more attractive than him?" Dean kept on teasing him. He surprisingly quickly seemed to have let go of the unmoral joke he unwillingly became part of. It could be that making fun of Roman was more entertaining.

"I find neither of you attractive, okay?"

"Even you don't believe that."

"Stop it," Roman warned him.

"Listen to your body. Listen to that inner voice that keeps calling 'Dean, Dean. . . .' You know you want it. You crave for it. You crave for _me_." Dean really enjoyed pronouncing that last syllable. Not even anger in Roman's eyes could make him stop. And he had more to say. "I know this is against my principles, but how about my yesterday's offer? Would you like to reconsider?" Dean gave him what he thought to be a one in a lifetime opportunity. Not that he'd do it, he just wanted to plant that thought in Roman's brain to torture him.

"What offer?" Seth asked quietly – he did not mean to interrupt the tense conversation. Luckily he realized what Dean was talking about. He remembered yesterday, immediately after they arrived to this damned place, he and Roman joked about how Dean's making them leave their girls to go with him on a short trip made him the one to fulfil their animalistic needs. And he'd jokingly offered them his services which both guys kindly refused. Now since conditions had changed, Dean reopened the topic.

"If you keep pissing me off I'll say yes just to see what you'll do," Roman reacted to Dean's offer.

Roman's hope to make Dean lose his confidence failed. There was nothing anyone could do to take the wind out of Dean's sails. With a smirk on his face, he continued, and he enjoyed it. "Promise is promise. Just say the word and I'll be at your feet."

Seth just wanted to hear Roman saying "Do it." It would be really interesting to see how far they'd go. Was there a real chance that it might happen? How he wanted to know! This verbal battle had to get to an end and to him it appeared that the only way one of them could win was if the other one gave up. But they were too proud to give up. Therefore it might come down to the final stage where Dean'd get down on his knees and Roman'd pull out his dick. Not that Seth would enjoy it but damn, he would really enjoy it! Now only if there were a chair and a bag of popcorn. Maybe some lube . . .

"Don't try me," Roman said, having an intense staring contest with Dean. Neither of them would give up that easily.

Dean smiled. "Well, just say no then." In his mind it was all simple. He couldn't lose. He was like that one fish swimming among the sharks but not afraid at all. Yeah, it'd made sense for him to get worried – what if Roman's will kept strong and he would never surrender? – but that sick smile was far from leaving his bright face because he felt self-assured and, oh, so good. He was the one who pulls the strings of his puppets. He was the puppet master. Among other things.

Roman was working hard on the strategy. With the teasing he could continue only for a certain amount of time. Technically, his odds were same as Dean's. But his mind could in no way compete with Dean's psycho fucked-up mind. The ultimate question was, was he willing to take the risk? The good thing was that there was no audience. Yeah, Seth . . . but what would he do? Still. If it went wrong, Dean and Seth would remind him of his failure forever. Although failure might be a relative term. The reality, though, was that he was in a precarious situation which might make him do something he would otherwise never do.

Yet he had enough to courage to continue. "You wanna play?" Roman asked.

"If you're in I'm in."

"Let's play then," Roman said as he proceeded to unbutton his trousers, making Dean for a second visibly nervous. He covered it with a smile that brought him back to his stable state of mind and locked the face from any unwanted expressions.

"Go ahead. Get down!"


	15. Chapter 15

The short second that Dean gave Roman to take back the order had passed. His eyes were fearless and Dean would just look stupid if he asked whether Roman really wanted to continue. The question how far was too far lingered on Dean's mind but he realized it was subjective anyway. There was no line if the other one wouldn't object. If Roman backed down it'd be so much easier. "Just step back," Dean shouted in his mind. But he wouldn't. And the time for thinking without looking suspicious was up. He got on his knees and feared what would come next.

Roman's underwear was showing and revealing the thing that would have its premiere in a minute. No matter how uncomfortable he felt he had to go through it. Besides, he knew Dean felt the same way, if not worse. But that's what you get for taking jokes too far.

"Wait a sec," Dean postponed the long-awaited moment for another few seconds.

"What? You've changed your mind?"

"No. Of course not. I was just thinking that we could continue where we took off. You know, before I found out that it was you and the kidnapping was not real. I'd prefer being the victim with no options."

Roman smirked. It sounded to him like Dean wanted to play some kind of sexual game. To make it more interesting. Well, if that was his condition. . . .

Dean realized what Roman was thinking. He wasn't hiding his thoughts well. But that was not it. What Dean said was supposed to mean something totally different. It was in no way an implication of desire to step it up a bit. "I don't want to see it. I don't _need _to see it," he corrected himself so that he wouldn't sound as though he felt like the person drawing the short straw. "What difference would it make if I had tape over my eyes anyways?" For him, huge difference.

Seth's subtle giggling caught attention of Dean and Roman as well. "What?" Dean asked. "What's so funny?"

Everything, he'd say, but instead he chose to be more specific not to waste everyone's time and not to ruin the special moment. "Don't act like it's your first time."

Dean suppressed the offensive mode that was about to emerge. With a calm voice, fake smile on his face, he turned to Seth and said, "Maybe _you_ have some experience in this area, but I've never done this. Really."

Seth pretended to have appreciated the joke but the hateful look proved he had not. "That's not what I meant. Don't act like it's your first time seeing his cock is what I meant."

Dean was striking him with his eyes for thinking he was funny or something. He'd like to see him in his place. Yeah, it's easy to joke when you're just watching the spectacle.

After a short distraction Dean returned to Roman fully attentive. "Forget it. No tape then. I just close my eyes, open my mouth and you put it in. Then I'll take care of the rest," Dean set his conditions. The steady, monotonous voice would almost persuade one that this really wasn't his first time. The trembling body, though, revealed the truth. This was all wrong. Oh, so wrong. How did I get here, he was thinking in order to take his mind off the nasty reality and disgusting future. Stay strong, he talked to himself. You can do this.

Nobody wanted it, yet it had to happen. Roman lowered his trousers and reached into his boxer briefs to pull out what would soon become the number one watched object in the area. Seth watched with excitement and curiosity. Dean watched with horror and aversion. He meant to close his eyes seconds ago but somehow he couldn't. You fear more what you can't see than what you're looking at. Well, he was looking at it now but he didn't feel that much better. Until . . . until hysterical laughter possessed him. Suddenly he felt a wave of relief. He was free. Roman's dick did not seem interested in what they meant to do with it. Not one bit, really.

"I guess that means I've won," Dean gladly announced.

Seth too noticed the problem. But he wanted to see it happening so much! It can't end like this. Even before it could start. Man!

"It's still on," Roman insisted.

"Nah, it's off. All the way." Such a good feeling to know it's over. The brain starts working again. Relief. But Dean was the only one who was truly happy.

"Just be nice to it," Seth yelled his advice to Dean's face. It couldn't be it. He refused to accept that it was over.

"Well," Dean spoke, brushing the dirt off his knees. He stretched his back and cracked his knuckles. After so long, now was the first time he felt great. No more twists, no more planning against him. No more teaming up on him. From now on he'd take the leadership again. After all, that's the way it's supposed to be, according to him. "I guess we can return to the camp now. Man, that was fun," he said, smiling. He was able to smile now that the world started turning again.

But Roman shared Seth's attitude. It may have been surprising but he really was. This was not the end, at least he did not consider it to be. Dean cannot be allowed to win. Not again. He always ends up saving himself. There's gotta be karma in the world. If there were, this time he would not get away. If there weren't, then it was up to Roman to make his own destiny which might or might not be compatible with Dean's image of it.

Fearlessly, confidently, he touched his manhood and started stroking it. Reaction came not that much later.

Dean's happiness was gone.

"Do you give up?" Roman teased him.

Desire to yell "Yes!" was strong but his pride wouldn't let that happen. He turned around and looked at Roman. This was not going as planned. "No," he had to declare. His mood changed rapidly. He was stuck at point with no good outlook for the immediate future. God. It would not stop afterwards, Dean realized. It'd be with him forever; feeling of humiliation digging its way back into the consciousness every time it felt like it.

Damage it would cause to his mental health did not matter so much to make him stop. He came crawling. The power was gone. Roman became the master. The thought, the question, that bothered him because it was probably correct was _He wouldn't surrender, would he?_ The only answer that his brain was able to offer him was no. Roman's determination was strong.

He took the position he knew from earlier. He got on his knees again. This time he felt less confident. In fact confidence was the last thing he felt. The reason might have been that he was looking at a cock that he would take in his mouth in an instant.

Roman and Seth found mental connection and satisfaction in Dean's despair. _This_ was what he deserved.

He closed his eyes; he couldn't bare the sight. It was all too overwhelming. Sickening. The funny thing was that when he came up with the whole idea of this trip his goal was for the guys to reconnect, to reinforce their friendship. Well, he would get that. But in no way he imagined it like this. He wanted their _minds_ to connect, not their _bodies_!

"Come on, Dean. Open your mouth," Roman said in a sweet but annoyingly teasing voice. He was holding his dick and rubbing it by Dean's firmly pressed mouth. On his lips he had to taste him. Maybe that was why he found it more and more difficult to let it happen. "Open your mouth," Roman repeated. "I dare you."

So Dean did. Eyes closed, fists clenched, trying not to breath. Brain turned off for his own sake. He took Roman's shaft in, knowing from that moment on nothing would be the same.


	16. Chapter 16

That taste . . . the lack of air . . . the feeling of drowning – or, more like being drown. He wanted to escape but the reality got him every time. Not even imagining being in a much nicer place – in the middle of the ring, holding the microphone – could help. His eyes were put under a lot of pressure when they were not allowed to shed a tear. Not that he'd cried. But he wished he could. The feeling of absolute helplessness surrounded him. He couldn't move; he could not go on. He wished to spit out the alien substance that had entered his environment by force. So hard and for so long he had tried to be the strongest, to make others see that he was no to be manipulated with, but ultimately he failed. He felt weak and used. They won; they used his personality against him. They caught him in this wicked game. They'd made him crawl.

A "click" sound saved Dean from his unsought thinking. What was that? Oh, just Seth taking a picture. He had to document this one-in-a-lifetime moment.

The sound made Roman open his eyes and lose the focus on Dean's work. Until now he had been trying to enjoy the show, but, to be honest, he couldn't; it did not feel right. Not at all. His principles were the only thing that made him go with it and prevented him from stopping this thing that was causing only suffering. Sure, how he felt could it no way be compared to Dean's disgust, but deeply inside he welcomed the distraction. On the outside, though, he was furious. "What do you think you're doing?"

Seth didn't choose to reply; he just stood there, smiling, being excited and all. It appeared that he was the only want liking what was happening. Had he looked away once? Or was he watching the whole time? When was the last time he blinked?

That was not important for it was over now. Meanwhile, Dean used the distraction to withdraw from the battle. He had long lost anyway. He couldn't take it anymore. It made him sick. Nauseated. When he finally opened his eyes, he wasn't even able to look at either of his friends. Solitude was what he demanded. For now, though, stepping back and getting some fresh air was enough. He ran to the nearest tree where he used the trunk to support his weakened body. He got as much air in his lungs as he could. It still wasn't enough. The smell was still with him. And that taste . . . salty . . . warm. "Argh!" he cried. He had to get it out of his head. He was already feeling pretty sick and thinking about the recent experience would not help.

Roman, somehow not noticing that his partner in crime had left him, cared more about Seth than Dean's discomfort. "Why?! Why do you always have to ruin it?!" he yelled. He was seriously upset about Seth's another causing the failure of his plan. He had enough. Also, he was still in possession of Dean's gun. And somehow he got used to using it . . . against Seth. He fired again.

"Would you stop shooting at me?" Now Seth got angry as well.

"Delete that picture. Immediately!"

"Pull up your pants. Immediately!'' Seth countered.

Only now Roman seemed to have noticed that the spectacle was over. He did cover the part of his body that had been receiving a lot of attention lately.

"Gimme that," Seth asked for the gun. No, he didn't need permission. He just took it. Then he threw it away.

"Delete the picture," Roman insisted, now fully dressed.

"What? You're suddenly ashamed of it, or what?"

"There doesn't need to be any evidence." Suddenly Roman realized the aggressive behavior was maybe not the best way to deal with Seth. He smiled when he a better idea popped into his head. There was another to way to change Seth's mind. Roman asked Seth, "Or do you need the picture for personal reasons? Something to warm you up at night when you're alone?"

Roman's approach delivered. Seth's smile disappeared and had been replaced with expression of discontent and disgust.

"No," he asserted awkwardly.

"Then why do you want it?"

"As evidence. A reminder that this really happened."

"Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll believe it."

Roman knew it wouldn't take long for Seth to delete that damn picture. If he refused, though, he was ready to offer him to finish what Dean started. But now that this problem had been resolved and his aggressive mood was gone, he looked to see where Dean disappeared.

Dean was still embracing the tree.

"Are you okay?" Roman asked, worried about his hopefully still friend.

But the sound of Roman's voice did not ease Dean's pain. What happened had a great impact on him. It affected him more than he thought. He did not want to see anything, hear anything, smell anything, taste anything, feel anything. He wanted to close his eyes and find himself in a vacuum. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

"Dean? Do you need help?" Roman asked when he did not get any response the first time.

Dean, although he felt far from fine, wanted to assure his friends that there was nothing to worry about. But when he looked behind to see them, a reaction came. He turned back to the tree to prevent the guys from seeing him puking.

Roman and Seth looked at it each. They put their disputes aside and set their priorities straight. Their friend, Dean, was what they needed to care about now. Seth put his head over his mouth in empathy. He felt bad for Dean. Maybe the joke went too far.

"I'll go to him; you stay here," Seth told Roman. He realized Seth presented lesser of two evils than Roman right now.

He walked fast, thinking what to say, but the only right word seemed to be _sorry_. Yet this was neither his idea nor his execution. But he felt guilty although he didn't do anything wrong. Well . . . He participated; he did not stop it from happening. Sure, Dean acted like it was no big deal but now he could see it was. What happened, that little practical joke Roman came up with was far from innocent. It was not something that would leave their minds in the morning. No. It had tremendous impact, on Dean in particular. And Seth couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Dean," Seth called once he was right behind him. "Are you okay?" he asked out of courtesy. But even he had to know if Dean answered yes, he would be lying.

Dean nodded his head yes, but did not say a word.

"I knew coming here was a bad idea."

Dean did not react. He was in his own world where the sky was bright and the birds were singing.

Seth tried to support him by patting him on the shoulder but touch was not something that Dean wanted right now. Or ever again. "I'll be alright," Dean assured him. "Just give me a sec."

It was hard to see how he would be alright. How he _could_ be alright. Only now Seth looked at what happened to Dean in its complexity. He looked at Dean leaning on the tree and saw a broken man, physically and mentally abused. In a day . . . few hours really, he suffered so much that it was easy to sympathize with him. They made him think someone was going after him, after all of them, they made him think his friends were in danger, or, even worse, dead, they made him think he was being chased, and he they actually chased him, they hit him in the head so hard that he lost consciousness for a while, they made him suck cocks. He went through all of that, and now he was saying that he would be alright.

"I'm sorry," Seth apologized.


	17. Chapter 17

When Seth left, Dean stayed standing there for a moment, just breathing. Coming to terms with the situation. He used the tissue that he found in his pocket to wipe his mouth. One last deep breath and he was good to go. He tried to clear up his mind, start from the scratch, but soon enough he realized that wouldn't work. What happened happened. There was no point in pretending it didn't.

He walked toward Seth and Roman with pretended confidence. The important thing was he looked at them, even at Roman. Actually when he did, when he finally saw the face of the man that did him harm, he smiled. There was this bitter hatred he felt toward him but not the one that would prevent him from talking to him ever again. It was somewhat comforting. He could use being able to look him in the eye again.

As soon as guys noticed he was walking over to them, they used the time they had to come up with a clever way to break the awkward silence that would soon emerge. They did not have to, though. Dean appeared to be well enough and able to put the hatred, or mainly disgust, aside. "I need some water," he commented. The casualness with which he said it surprised both Roman and Seth

"I'm sorry," Roman apologized just as Seth did before. He was sorry, but only partly. It was Dean who pushed it to that point. Besides, he could have stopped anytime. It was not Roman's fault that Dean was so stubborn and proud. After little consideration, Roman added, "But I won."

Dean chuckled. "You won one battle. Not the war. The war barely started," he announced with great importance.

"You don't mean to continue, do you?" Roman asked, ready to be surprised if Dean said yes.

"No. Not now. I need a time-out," he said leisurely, as if it was no big deal. "Also, you should clean up the mess."

"What mess?" Seth asked, but after checking out the place he knew better. There were ropes and tape lying around, knife, gun . . . Not something that would look good if somebody happened to see it. The only thing missing was a dead body. Well, looking at Dean, one did not need to guess twice to know he was the object of the cruelties. He was covered in mud, leaves, blood, vomit, and, yeah, cum, too. He could use a shower right now. It was not only the sight of him that made you disgusted. There was smell, too.

Roman got to collecting the evidence while Dean looked to get only what belonged to him. Like the knife. And the gun. "Where are the bullets?" he asked. Leaving them in the forest was the last thing he wanted.

"Uhm," Roman thought, "they should be around."

"I need something more specific than _around_."

They were hard to spot. And Roman had no idea where exactly one could locate them. But he did not want to get Dean any angrier. Even though he was hiding his anger well, it existed. So Roman offered his help. "I'll look for them."

That Dean took as a sign that it was being taken care of and there was nothing for him left to do. He grasped the gun – how he missed it – but welcoming it back in his arms had to be postponed because Seth's curiosity arose.

"How come you never said you owned a gun?" Seth finally got the chance to ask.

"What would you need to know that for?"

"Well, for situations like this. I mean, do you remember you almost shot Roman?" Only partially that was sarcasm. After so many damages to Dean's body it wouldn't surprise him if he had forgotten. Particularly the blackout could have caused some memory loss.

"I had a good reason for that," Dean argued. "But hey, I only pointed my gun at him, though he fired at you."

"Twice," Seth reflected, and anger settled on his face.

"Twice?" Dean asked.

"Twice," he confirmed. "Right, you missed the second time."

"When was that?"

"Just five minutes ago," Seth answered casually, "when you were hugging your tree."

Dean let Seth know he didn't want to talk about that, that it was something he wished to forget about, or at least momentarily lock out of his consciousness.

"Still," Seth continued," there's a difference doing it with empty gun."

Dean shrugged his shoulders and looked at Roman. "Have you found them?" he asked him.

"No," he shouted back.

"Well, then keep looking!"

Meanwhile Dean kept playing with the gun.

"You know what?" Seth said, looking at him and seeing how dangerous he looked with it, "Let me take it away from you." He reached for the handgun but Dean would not let anyone other than him hold it again. He felt like they wouldn't even know how to use it properly.

"Hey, I got them," Roman said and cheered Dean up.

"Where were they?"

"In my pocket," Roman replied. All those things that happened between he placed the bullets safely in this pocket and when he realized they were there made him forget about it.

"Good. Now give them to me."

"No," Roman refused.

"They're mine. I bought them."

"Well, I wouldn't feel save knowing you're holding a loaded gun."

"What? You think I'd shoot you?"

"Is it crazy to think you might?"

"Look," Dean said calmly, "what happened happened. I'm not mad at you."

"That's a little hard to believe. Anyway, I don't want to argue over this. Let's settle it this way: you keep the gun, I keep the bullets. Alright?"

Dean was not satisfied with the proposal but trying to take the bullets from Roman by force was even before the attempt a lost fight. Especially when the odds were Seth would join Roman's side.

"Fine. Keep them. For now," Dean added.

Once the bullets were found and the dispute over them ended as well Roman got back to cleaning the rest of the mess. Seth helped. Dean stood by bossing them around. He put his hand on the top of his head to check the injured spot and see if there was any blood left but it seemed to be fine now.

"What did you hit me with?" he asked Seth.

Seth stopped cleaning to focus on Dean. "What?"

"When I pointed the gun at Roman, what did you throw at me?"

"A rock," Seth slowly admitted. He was still ashamed of it and felt guilty about that spontaneous action.

"Where is it now?"

"I don't know." There were plenty of rocks around, how could he know which was the one he used as a weapon? "You want to keep it as a souvenir or what?"

"No, dumbass. It's probably got blood on it. _My_ blood. And where's my blood, there's my DNA," he explained to Seth.

"And you're worried that someone might find it and use it to clone you?" Seth joked.

Dean did not find it funny.

"Fine, I'll see if it's around. But if you care that much about not leaving any DNA here, you should probably get disposed of the vomit you left by the tree. And then your piss of course," Seth added to show Dean the absurdity of his demands. "But even if they found your DNA, they need to have something to match it to. So the question now is whether you have a criminal record or not," Seth turned it around.

"Do I look like a guy with a criminal record?"

"Yes," instantaneously answered Roman, without looking up.

"If I were you, I wouldn't even speak up."

Casually Dean grabbed the gun that he put in his pants before. He played with it for a moment – he had nothing better to do anyway – then a smile appeared on his face. "Who was in charge of taking out the cartridge?" he wanted to know.

"I," Roman answered, uninterested.

"You wanted to play a Russian Roulette?"

"What?" Roman started paying attention. "Why?"

"You left one bullet in."

"No. There's no way," he refused, but the bullet in Dean's palm proved he might be wrong.

"You call yourself the responsible one?" Seth shouted at him. "You could have killed me!"

"God! No! _No!_ That can't be."

"You fired at me," Seth reminded him. "Twice!"

"I could have killed you," Roman realized. He was in shock and he was close to having a panic attack. "Seth," he begged for apology, but this was not something you could just let go. "I don't know what to say. . . ."

"Just say that –" He stopped and squinted his eyes. "Wait a minute. You can't play Russian Roulette with a pistol," he realized. "If the bullet were in the gun, as you claim," he looked at Dean, "and Roman fired, I'd be dead. It's not a fucking revolver."

Roman listened to him patiently. What Seth was saying made sense.

Seth went on, "Just admit you're lying."

"You fucking asshole!" Roman shouted at Dean. "You wanted me to think that I could have killed Seth? You think this a fucking game, Dean?"

"Liar!" Seth accused Dean. "You think you can manipulate with us just like that?"

Roman asked for confession, "Say that you had that bullet on you the whole time."

"Maybe," Dean said, then smiled and took a step back. "But now we know for sure that the bullet's in the gun." He made sure they saw him inserting it in the magazine. "And that the gun is loaded. And that, as you said," he referred to Seth, "you fire, you kill." With those words he stretched his arm and pointed the gun at Roman.

"What are you doing?" Seth asked.

Roman didn't even have guts to speak.

"You don't mean to. . . ." He was too shocked to finish the sentence. Too worried. Too scared of what Dean might do.

Roman took a deep breath and quietly said, "So you are mad at me."

Dean smiled and tilted his head. Then he fired.


	18. Chapter 18

"Now we're even," Dean said. Satisfaction warmed up his heart. Shivers ran down his spite as evilish thoughts filled his mind. The concept of revenge turned into reality. Now he felt complete. The urge to smile for the rest of his life was hard to fight. He succumbed. But he did what he had to. There were no regrets.

"How come they still haven't locked you in a madhouse?" Seth shouted.

"Chill, Seth. You're safe." Then Dean looked at Roman. He still stood tall, unharmed. Of course. Dean fired an "innocent" blank. All the bullets were blanks, which Dean found funny, but Roman was definitely not amused.

"Now give that to me," Seth insisted and furiously took the gun away from Dean. He looked at Dean, then at Roman. "No more shooting!" He had enough. How come he was the only who didn't find pretending to shoot somebody not funny at all? Those joked had to stop, or might join the club and use the gun he now had in possession.

"You fucking jackass!" Roman addressed Dean.

"Oh," Dean pretended to be hurt, "you don't think I would actually kill you, do you?"

"You wouldn't have guts to do it," Roman replied. It sounded as a challenge, but one had to admit there had been enough challenges for such a short trip. And this one in particular would definitely not end well.

"Like you would," Dean dared Roman.

The only one acting like an adult, definitely more than the others, was Seth. As soon as he acquired gun from Dean, he turned his attention to Roman, the guy who was still in hold of bullets. Blanks or real . . . like that would be an important issue for those two.

Seth stood up to Roman. "Give me the bullets," he ordered him. He looked pretty confident in that moment. Most of the time, due to Roman's size and authority, Seth wouldn't _demand_ anything from him, but now he had enough. The days of his architect/peace-maker position may have passed long time ago, but he could anytime gather enough courage to oppose the other two and even force them to do what he wanted. He was Seth Rollins. He felt no fear. "I said give me the bullets," he repeated, although he was sure Roman heard him the first time. But he didn't want to give them up.

"Why?" he asked, as though it could be a deal-breaker.

"Because you two are dangerous even unarmed. I don't want to be forced to come back here one day and tell the police where exactly the murder happened."

Dean laughed. He was the only one.

Seth continued, "I'm surprised we've got this far without anyone getting hurt."

Dean raised his hand. He had some objections to that statement. Was it his quick overcoming of the obstacles that the other two threw in front of him that made them oblivious? What was he supposed to do to make them realize he _was_ hurt? Collapse on the ground, curl into a fetal position, and cry? Maybe one day. But it was not this day. As fucked up as it had been, he was still able to put a smile on his face, and not a fake but the one that mirrored how he really felt, and live in harmony. Without a problem he could talk as though he was perfectly fine, as if nothing happened. Or take it to extremes. Scream, shout, act crazy. What mattered was that he was in control of all that.

Seth still had to work hard to accomplish his goal of getting in possession of all the weapons. "I count to three," he told Roman. He remembered that Dean still had a knife, which one couldn't be sure he wouldn't use. "And you," Seth addressed Dean while having his palm open for Roman to place the cartridge in there. "Give me your knife."

Dean for change looked at Roman. "Why is he talking to us like that?" he complained to his suddenly friend again.

For valid reasons Roman was suspicious of Dean's change in behavior. He would not support his mood swings and acting as if nothing happened. Roman still remembered how Dean fired at him just few minutes ago. "How dare you even talk to me?" The anger was still present. There still might be a reaction for Dean's action coming.

Hostility was everywhere Dean looked. In Roman's eyes, in Seth's eyes. He could even feel it in the air. "What did _I _do?" he asked, acting innocent and all, but he broke his character when he burst into laughter.

"The knife," Seth insisted. Judging by Dean's unpredictability, getting the knife away from him was the priority number one.

"Oh, right. Like there's a chance I'm giving you all the stuff I can defend myself with. You think I'm stupid? You think I forgot what you two have done to me? Oh, no. I'm not going to make it easy for you. I'm keeping the knife."

Angry face was the reaction Dean asked for. "For the last time, _give it to me_," Seth said slowly in a tone that sounded very serious. His self-control also had limits.

"I know what you're up to."

"Really?" Seth asked, amused, in a way deliberately teasing Dean. Then he made the necessary steps to be standing right in front of him. Dean's confusion proved he had no idea what Seth was up to. Seth knew; he wanted that fucking knife. Even if he had to take it himself. The lack of Dean's cooperation signaled to Seth what his next step should be. His hand reached for Dean's balls, and squeezed them so hard tears started forming in corners of Dean's eyes. The pain almost got him on his knees, but he would not kneel in front of him. He would not kneel in front of anybody! Not anymore. . . .

"Thanks," Seth said, and took the knife out of Dean's pocket to place it in his. He searched Dean's pockets for any left-over bullets as well but found none.

When he was done with Dean, he turned to Roman. "Will you give me those bullets?" he asked for the nth time. What he did to Dean, who was trying hard to pull himself back together, was to be a warning for Roman.

"I'm not gonna support this behavior," Roman said. Seth didn't give a fuck. He had no problems being a little aggressive to achieve what he aimed for. Roman continued to argue, saying, "Violence is never a way to solve problems." He finished that sentence in quiet voice because of the images popping into his mind depicting the events of the past 24 hours. And there could be no discussion over the aggressiveness, brutality, and lack of sympathy for the so-called enemy. "Look at yourself, what makes you suitable for being in possessions of all the weaponry? You're outraged, impulsive –" Roman used the chance that Seth gave him not to finish that argument. He was close enough to him now to cause those injuries he had been talking about earlier, and the dark eyes of his were fearless, ready to strike.

"Fine, take them," Roman finally gave up. "But if you try to use any of the weapons. . . ." He believed he made it clear even without stating the possible consequences.

"Don't worry."

Roman did a little, but he was more concerned about Dean. He went up to him. Not to check the damage Seth had caused, though. Quite the contrary. To kick him in the balls.

And now Dean was lying on the ground, in pain. Roman leaned to whisper in his ear, "_Now_ we're even."

"What was that thing you said about violence again?" Seth asked.

Roman laughed. "I might have misinterpreted it. I think how _really_ the saying goes is 'Violence is a wrestler's best friend.'"


	19. Chapter 19

It took Dean a while to recover from two attacks on his masculinity. Even when he was finally able to stand up, he still felt the left-over pain and though he failed to see why it was so hilariously funny. While the other two laughed, he remained hostile and angry.

"Okay, I think I can safely say that we're done hurting each other."

"We'll see about that," Dean angrily uttered as a response to Roman's comment.

"Come on, Dean," Seth joined the conversation, "I think we've all had enough. _Especially _you. Look at yourself. You're dirty, you smell . . . you yourself got to be pretty disgusted over yourself. Besides, I'm sure you're exhausted." He briefly looked at Roman standing next to him. "We all are. Seriously, so much happened I don't even remember who started this."

"Dean," Roman said even before Seth finished his sentence. Dean gave him a stink eye but that didn't stop Roman from continuing making fun of him. "When you're in doubt, go with Dean. It's always him."

"Oh, you're so funny," Dean bitterly replied.

"Alright, alright. In 97% of cases it's Dean who starts the fight."

Dean sighed, then decided to let it pass. Seth was right; he _was_ exhausted. It's been a long day after all. Full of surprises . . . one worse than the other.

Seth saw the opportunity. "How about a truce?" he suggested.

Dean indifferently shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand in sense of "yeah, whatever." On the one hand, Seth took it as an agreement to the armistice, but on the other hand, with Dean one simply could never be one hundred percent sure that he'd keep his word. He'd make peace now, he'd start a fire in ten minutes.

But even with uncertainty Seth moved on to Roman. "I'm happy with my score," Roman declared. "So, sure, I'm for it."

Dean didn't seem to be paying attention. He wasn't planning anything – nothing of that kind – but there had to be a reason for that ignorance. Maybe it was the tiredness. Or he was unhappy with how the things developed. He looked a bit depressed.

Seth, who was walking behind him, noticed something odd about his friend. Well, odd . . . if he really was sad, it was understandable. "Hey, Dean!" he called.

"What?' Dean asked. Only for an instant did he look at Seth, then he continued looking ahead, or actually to the ground.

Sympathy made Seth come up with that suggestion. "What if we packed everything and spend the last night in that nice hotel?"

Seth succeeded in making Dean smile, though Dean kept that smile hidden from him.

"Thanks, but it's fine here."

"Really? Wouldn't you like to take a shower at least?"

Now Roman interrupted. "Hey, if he can take a shower, I want too!"

Dean stopped and turned around. He grinned and told Roman, "Don't worry_, nobody_'s taking a shower."

Neither that option made Roman happy. When he imagined he would spend the night by Dean's stinky side. . . . Fuck, he realized. All three guys would be occupying the same small tent filled with the scent that would easily make one puke. He better not breathe tonight.

"I think I'd prefer a hotel room," Roman said, hoping Dean would change his mind.

But he just said, to both of them, "Don't be pussies."

Then Dean returned to his melancholic state of being.

Seth gave it another try. He asked more directly now, "Then tell me what can we do to cheer you up?"

Roman's "Hey," as a reaction to _we _went unnoticed.

"Cheer me up?" Dean repeated, amused. "Do I look sad?"

"Yes," Seth replied without hesitation.

"_Please_." He laughed. "I expect you two to know the difference between sadness and hunger."

"Well," Seth said, taken back, "It seemed logical you'd be upset." Of course, he understood that Dean was hungry. He was as well. But that didn't mean the other had to be wrong. "After all you went through. . . ."

That found Roman offensive. "Why are you on his side again? Wasn't _he _the one who dragged us here and cut us off the outside world? Wasn't _he_ the one who planted traps all over this place? Wasn't _he_ the one who left us here alone last night? Wasn't _he_ the one who wanted to shoot at me and then actually did?"

"Alright, alright," Seth interrupted. He sensed Roman could go on for a while. "But weren't _you_ the one who haunted him? And weren't_ you_ the one who kidnapped him, tied up his limbs, covered his mouth, and pointed gun to his head? We're _you_ the one who made him give you a blowjob? We're _you_ the one who kicked him in the nuts?"

"Like you are innocent," Roman replied to end the dispute. All three were guilty; that was the bottom line. "Besides, weren't _you_ the one who took a picture of my dick in Dean's mouth?" Roman counterattacked.

"What?" That caught Dean's attention. He either didn't know about it or forced it out of his consciousness.

"I asked you to erase it," Roman reminded to Seth. "Can I see your phone to check that you've done it?" He somehow suspected the picture was still existed. And Seth's hesitation did not make him change his opinion.

"I've erased it," Seth said. His declaration, though, was preceded by a moment of silence.

"Show me your phone," Roman demanded.

"I don't have to."

Dean had something to say too. Building on the premise that Seth kept the picture he said, "You already have a pretty gay reputation in WWE, so are you sure you want to have that picture in your phone?" At least this topic improved Dean's mood. "Unless," he continued, enjoying teasing Seth, "you know, you want that picture because of . . . reasons." Dean smiled.

"I have a girlfriend!" Seth shouted.

"That perfectly fits into the picture. I mean, you don't want it to be evident. That's understandable. But who knows? Maybe you sleep in separate bedrooms –"

"We don't!"

"When I think about it, I've never even seen you two kissing."

"That's a lie!" Seth fought hard for victory which was farther and farther, quickly disappearing from his sight.

Dean turned to Roman for support, "Have you?"

Roman shook his head. "No."

"Are you ganging up on me?" Seth asked.

Dean looked at Roman with a smile on his face. He got an interesting thought. "Seth's right. We both hurt each other. _A lot_. But Seth looks like he could use some damage."

Roman did not oppose. Seth was definitely the cleanest one with least physical and emotional pain. He smelled like a freshly washed baby, even though he hasn't showered since yesterday morning.

Fear that Seth began to feel was understandable. If those were to work together to even things out, it would not end well for him.

"I'll delete the picture," he promised. He seemed nervous. Starting to shake.

"Oh, I don't care about the picture. Keep it," Dean happily refused the offer.

Roman did not share the same enthusiasm because he really wished for the damn picture to disappear, but he knew that there was something better, more important, building up.

"We have a truce," Seth reminded them in the last hope for leaving him alone.

Dean laughed. "Roman and I, _we_ have a truce. You, on the other hand. . . ."

Seth didn't stay there to listen to the threats. He considered his options and decided to run away while he had the chance.

The remaining duo shortly joined in. They were glad Seth decided to flee because it gave them chance to deserve their prey. The hunt began.


	20. Chapter 20

Seth was fast and determined to escape the unjust punishment. The memories of what Roman and Dean went through were fresh; he refused to undergo anything similar. This became a sprint for him – sprint for his life – but no matter how fast he ran, he heard them behind him, or at least his brain made him believe they were close. Too close.

"You can't escape," Dean shouted.

"You see him?" Roman asked Dean in the mid-run.

Dean pointed at something he believed to be Seth. It wasn't. He was already too far because his dignity depended on it.

On the one hand, he was scared, though what he felt would be better described as hypothetical fear, but on the other hand this was nothing new. He went through this exact situation – being chased by either Dean or Roman – tens of times. Sure, he knew the end of that pursuit beforehand, but it didn't really differ that much from what was happening now. The actual situation, being followed, did not scare him; it was the anticipation of what would happen next that caused him hearing steps that were in reality too far for his ear to catch.

"Damn! He's fast," Roman admitted. He saw that their opportunity was closing.

Although . . . Seth didn't really have anywhere to go, and no place to hide either. This was secluded place, the car would take forever to start considering the flat tire, and he couldn't call anyone to pick him up. This was the same situation Dean faced few hours ago. Sure, his solution was arming himself, but the conditions have changed since then. Except . . . Seth realized he was in possession of that gun . . . he had the bullets . . . he had the knives. . . . The other two had no weapons on themselves, all were in Seth's custody. That gave him a little push to keep running. But it also distracted him from paying attention to the surroundings.

He tripped over something. He managed to not fall down but he had to support himself and with his hands he touched the ground. Curious, he looked back to see what he tripped over. It was a body of a dead animal. And he spent too much time looking at it.

Roman and Dean used those long seconds to get to him. Seth was still free but not for long.

When Seth noticed the followers, he returned to his great escape but it was too late. Dean lunged at him and, since it wasn't his first time, he got Seth under his control in no time.

Roman followed and squatted next to the two. Dean made Seth lie down, facing the ground, so that he could sit on his back. He grabbed Seth's hair and pulled them to victoriously lift Seth's head as a trophy. He looked at Roman. Both viciously grinned.

"Now what?" Seth asked. Anger could be heard in his voice. He was angry at his supposedly friends, but also at himself. He lost the fight too easily.

"You're a wanted man Seth, you know that?" Dean decided to play a little game before proceeding to the demands that would soon be imposed on Seth. "I've dreamed of this day," Dean said, reflecting, meaningfully looking ahead. "The day I would get you and make you my servant." He smiled. "My _slave_," he whispered in Seth's ear.

Seth appeared annoyed and bored. "Can we cut the foreplay?"

"Don't be impatient," Dean continued. "You'll get what you desire." Dean was trying hard to sound serious. He had to stay in character.

Seth, on the other hand, aimed at destroying Dean's great plan. Or at least its opening sequence. "Could you at least get off me? I really don't like feeling your balls on my back. . . ."

Roman laughed. Dean first chose to ignore the comment, but then replied, "If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut. Because, you know, everything you say can and will be used against you." Notwithstanding his words, Dean got up and encouraged Seth to do the same.

"Hold him," he told Roman.

Then Dean proceeded to grab Seth's T-shirt and take it off him.

"What are you doing?" Seth asked. He was suspicious of Dean's intentions, and he didn't like it one bit.

Dean did not speak, although some explanation would be favorable. Especially when Dean continued, undoing Seth's belt buckle. Now even Roman asked, "What are you doing?" But Dean kept his intentions private.

Seth began to fight. He didn't like what was happening. Unfortunately for him, despite Roman's lack of knowing what was going on, and what it would lead to, he followed Dean's orders and held Seth tightly.

"Let me go!" Seth yelled. "And you stop undressing me," he addressed Dean, who was now unzipping the fly on Seth's pants. The whole pants followed. Seth remained wearing only the underwear. Pink boxer briefs.

Roman, standing behind him, laughed when he saw the text. "Why does your ass say 'Superman?'" he asked teasingly.

Just from pure excitement Roman decided to pinch Seth's ass. To what Seth responded by hitting Roman in the nuts.

"Totally worth it," Roman uttered while trying to control the pain.

For that short moment of Roman's weakness Seth set himself free. As soon as Dean noticed, though, which was immediately, he took care of it himself. "Holding him is your only job, Ro," he complained.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Now Dean was able to get back to business. He looked at Seth's underwear, which by chance collided with looking at Seth's dick, and thought what to do next.

He admitted, "I feel a bit uncomfortable taking _that_ off . . . so I'll have to ask you to do it yourself." Then he smiled to not look very bossy.

"_That_," Sethe pointed at his underwear, "is staying on," he confidently declared.

"Well, what the heck." The sentence followed by Dean's grabbing the boxer briefs and speedily pulling it down.

"You gotta be kidding me," Seth exclaimed, getting seriously worried about his future. He'd worry about his dignity too, but that was long gone. Just as the dignity of Dean and Roman. "Would you stop looking at my _penis_?"

Dean smiled but didn't look away. "Fascinating," he even remarked.

It took a while for Dean to stop looking – to be precise, Seth counted nine Mississippi, which was really worrisome. The next thing that grabbed Dean's attention was the pile of Seth's clothes. He picked one up – the pants – and ripped it. He did the same with the T-shirt. And Seth was hopelessly trying to escape Roman and protect his clothing. The only thing that was left was the underwear that was still on the ground between his legs.

Dean grabbed it and nicely asked Seth to step away.

At this point Seth was pretty angry. Moreover, he sensed it would get worse. But he refused to obey.

There were other ways, though. Roman was there to help. And he did it with pleasure.

As soon as Roman picked Seth up and Seth's feet untouched the ground, Dean got hold of the last piece of clothing that remained. The last hope there was to avoid spending the rest of the day naked was gone.

The underwear, though, was something different. Not that easy to destroy. Because . . . in order to damage it Dean would have to touch parts he didn't really want to. So he found himself in a dilemma.

That was something Roman could, and was happy to, help with too. "Give it to me. Hold Seth," he reminded him. But suddenly Seth didn't feel like running away anymore.

Roman without any problem took care of Seth's underwear. He didn't even struggle with touching those parts that were touching Seth's genitals before.

When the clothes had been taken care of, Dean and Roman could fully focus on Seth again. What was the plan? Was there any? Or would it be an improvisation?

Whatever was to happens, Seth wanted to make one thing clear. "I'm not sucking any dicks."

"We'll take that into account," Dean replied, feeling like a generous God. At the same time, the way he said it made Seth realize that there were worse things that could happen to him. That they could make him do.


	21. Chapter 21

Dean smiled. Seth's breathing became heavier. At what point this would be considered a crime, he wondered, an assault on his person. Then again, they spent the whole day breaking the law. If one of them was to speak of the events that happened during this trip, they would probably end up in prison.

And it wasn't like the evidence did not exist. Seth had the picture in his phone . . . still! Alone it meant nothing, judiciary speaking, but if they were to add the story to it, it would have unwanted consequences. Despite this, despite the general notion, common sense, that keeping any kind of evidence was wrong, Dean did not hesitate to create another one. He simply couldn't let the opportunity pass. Seth was naked. Defenseless.

Since Dean's phone was somewhere – well, he couldn't really tell where – he borrowed Seth's. Dean once again held Seth's pants, which were beautifully torn now. He put his hand in one of the pockets and after several seconds he pulled out a phone.

"_My_ property!" Seth shouted.

As a result Dean smiled and emptied Seth's pockets. He showed Seth that he should be the last one to care about principles when it came to taking other people's property since he arrogantly took Dean's. There was all the weaponry, now lying on the ground. But Dean also found in Seth's pocket something else; something that he got very much interested in.

"What is it?" Roman asked. He couldn't see it very well since Dean held it in his hand and, moreover, Seth was blocking Roman's view.

But judging by Dean's expression, neither he seemed to know precisely what the object that he acquired was. From what Roman saw, it was small, more or less flat, of square or rectangular shape.

"Hmm," Dean mumbled, turning it around in his hand.

"Do you know what it is?" Roman asked. He was curious.

Seth watched the scene for a moment, then sighed. Dean knew he found. But to clear it out for Roman, too, Seth assertively said, "It's a condom."

"Oh," Roman replied, suddenly losing the interest.

Dean, on the other hand, still seemed interested. Okay, so it wasn't the question "What is it?" that bothered him. He turned to Seth, "Seth, would you care to explain?"

"I think it's pretty obvious," he replied coldly, refusing to participate in any new game.

"Well, it would be," Dean admitted, "if we weren't the only ones here."

"What do you mean?"

"What did you plan to use it for?"

"Oh," Roman exclaimed again. The change in tone was evident. Now he regained the interest.

Seth offensively defended himself, "Nothing! Okay? I did not _plan_ to use it for anything."

"But if it came down to that . . ."

"Came down to what?" Seth angrily asked.

Dean did not answer. Suddenly he lost interest in the conversation. Something else popped into his mind. He stretched his arm to hand the condom over to Seth.

"Put it on."

"What?! No!"

"Dean?" Roman called at him. Once again he lost the track of Dean's revenge. What was his plan now?

Dean ignored him because Seth was his number one priority now. "Do you want _me_ to do it?" He was already working on opening the package.

"Why in hell should _anybody_ do it?"

"Because I want it," Dean explain, pretending to be offended and hiding it by focusing on reading what was written on the package. "Hmm, strawberry," he said out loud, excited.

"Roman!" Seth searched for support. "Aren't you gonna say something?"

"I would," he replied, "but I have no fucking idea what's on his mind. But I'd like to find out."

"So you're just gonna stand there and watch?"

"Yep. That's pretty much it."

Seth was furious. Now he felt the uncalled-for revenge was being taking too far. And if Dean put that condom on his penis, that would be crossing the line and it would require further action against him.

But Dean wavered. "No. This is not right."

"I'm glad you finally see that."

"No, I mean your dick. We need to get it bigger," Dean said cheerfully, and made it his goal.

But with the immediate intentions being cleared out, new problem arose for Seth. What means was Dean ready do use?

Dean embraced the challenge; he even already had an idea in mind. But first he took a picture. Though the attempt to capture Seth Rollins in his entirety failed.

"Ro, could you hold his arms? I'd like to get a picture of his junk."

Roman showed some disagreement over the issue of making this a lasting memory, but in the end he did as asked.

"Beautiful," Dean commented when he got a nearly perfect picture. In regard to Seth's lack of participation.

When it was clear that fighting back was useless, Seth simply uttered, "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

"Not as much as you," Dean replied while flicking through the pictures in Seth's phone. Apparently this wasn't Seth's first naked photoshoot. But Dean was looking for something else. Something that would help him accomplish his goal. But the pictures of Seth kept coming back. "Seriously, you have no principles?" Dean asked, aware of the irony. Then he smiled. "Now this is an unexplored territory."

"What is it?" Roman wanted to know.

"A girl!" Dean cheerfully shouted, as though it was the greatest thing ever.

"Leave it! Now!" Seth yelled.

"Who is it?" Dean asked. "Is it your girlfriend? I can't really tell. 'Cause, you know, there's no face." He burst into laughter over his own joke.

"Stop looking at it!"

Roman felt left out. "I want to see!"

"Don't you dare," Seth warned Dean, but it was already too late. Dean was showing the pictures to Roman. And he stayed on each picture a couple of seconds to ensure Roman noticed every detail.

"You two take pictures pretty frequently, don't you?" Roman directed the first question to Seth. Then he had one for Dean. "Are there any where they are both together?"

"I don't know. If it were to be full nudes, somebody else would have to take the pictures then . . . Let's see."

"No, we didn't have a private shooting session," Seth said sarcastically.

"But wouldn't it be great?" Dean thought out loud. "Hey, I could do it. I wouldn't even charge a lot. Actually if you let me join afterwards that'd be enough."

"Look, guys. We had fun, but couldn't we let it go? Couldn't you let _me_ go? I'm getting cold so let's just settle this."

Roman and Dean looked at each other. It'd probably be fair. But it wouldn't be so much fun to cut the act in the middle.

"No."

"Well, it's not gonna work anyway."

"Not even if you look at this?" Dean proceeded to show him the same pictures he was showing to Roman before. "I bet it's gonna work." After a pause he added, "It works for me."

Seth just shook his head, trying to get rid of the murderous thoughts. He had to control the anger. Dean was just making fun of him, he did not mean it. But imposing those thoughts on himself did not work. Because there was some truth in what Dean said.

"It works for me as well," Roman told them. "But you should already know that, Seth." Since Roman was standing _right behind_ Seth, of course Seth knew. He could feel it.

"Uhm, would you stop touching my ass with your dick?"

Roman was hesitant to do anything about it.

"Seriously!"

The angry tone finally persuaded Roman. "Fine! I'll stop touching your ass with my _dick_." So he switched to his hands, which, though, gave Seth another chance for escape.

"Dammit, Ro!" Dean shouted when it became up to him to prevent Seth from avoiding the fate Dean prepared for him.

"I'm sorry. Again."

"It's your only job."

But Roman refused to be a sidekick. "Well, I want more involvement in your plan."

"Be careful what you wish for."

Roman put his hands on Seth again, holding him tightly. He didn't care for the small distance between his genitals and Seth's ass, despite Seth's aversion to it. But at this point, even Seth surrendered. His last attempt to fight was a warning to Roman. "Just remember that by allowing all this you're letting him win."

"Win what? This is not a war."

"Even if it was," Dean said as a by-the-way, "better war than prison." That sentence did not make Seth feel any better. Especially when Roman kept standing behind him, holding him as his personal war prisoner. One thing was certain; Seth's future did not look bright.


	22. Chapter 22

Was he supposed to stand by and watch? Let them do whatever they wanted with him?

"Put it on," Dean repeated, handing Seth the condom.

"No."

"You wouldn't dare to disobey."

"Watch me," Seth replied with a smile on his face.

Dean came closer, put an intimidating expression on his face, all in attempt to make Seth fear him to obedience.

Yet Seth couldn't be bothered. He wasn't scared at all. Displeased but not frightened.

"Seth," Dean pronounced his name slowly, letting him know he wouldn't back down.

"I hear ya."

"Do it!" Dean shouted.

"No," was the cold answer he got.

Dean was losing patience with Seth. He looked at Roman with plead in his eyes. He didn't know what to do and needed assistance. "Ro," he cried.

Seth chuckled at Dean's whining. The dominant figure disappeared. That looked like a great opportunity for Seth.

As soon as he put the fact that he was naked aside, he found the courage, even desire, to fight. Dean's standing so close was an opportunity he wouldn't want to miss. Ruthlessly he kicked him in the balls.

One down, one to go.

He looked behind at surprised Roman. "You really thought I would give in?" he asked.

Roman's hands were still on Seth's arms, but that wouldn't stop Seth. He could have probably translated disobedience into action earlier; he didn't know why didn't. But now it was time to stop this foolishness. "Are you gonna let me go?" Seth gave Roman last chance to end it peacefully.

Roman looked down at Dean, once again lying on the ground in pain. Too weak to interfere with Seth's attempt to escape. Still, Roman's reply was "No."

A nod on Seth's part was followed by an attack. He used some wrestling maneuvers but majority was pure instinctive street fight. At the end of it, though, Roman was down on the ground and had Seth sitting on his back. Roman's arm was hurting due to the unpleasant way Seth was holding it. This was not Roman's major concern though. Seth was naked. Naked and sitting on his back. The only thing that made him glad was that he wasn't able to see it.

"Amateurs," Seth sighed. Finally he felt relieved for he got the situation under control.

At about that time, Dean stood up. Now he was angrier than before, but not even that could make Seth uneasy again.

Roman noticed Dean regaining control and asked him for a favor. "Get him off me!"

Seth was first to respond. He made an offer to Roman. "I'll let you go if you leave Dean's side." That was crucial to Seth. If they were to cooperate again, he would be screwed. But if he got Roman on his side, or at least if Roman became neutral, situation would look much brighter.

"Fine," Roman said. "I'm done. You two do whatever you want, continue with your foreplay, but I'm out of it."

Seth smiled at Dean. He felt confident. Dean did as well, although he lost an ally.

When Roman said he was out of it, he did not mean he would walk away and leave them alone. He sat down by a tree to watch. There had to be someone who could impartially testify what happened here. In case it would go either way.

"You kicked me in the balls."

"I would do it again," Seth replied casually.

"You won't get the chance."

Dean approached him, ready to get his revenge, but he wouldn't get too close.

"You lost your opportunity to give orders."

Confusion arose on Dean's face although he tried not to let it show.

"Now you're gonna listen to me."

"Never."

"Yes. And you will take off your clothes."

"No!" Dean shouted while Roman's "Ooh," went unnoticed.

Seth erased the distance between the two and directly stared into Dean's eyes. The standoff started. The game of who would back down first.

Except that wasn't how Seth saw it. He saw an opportunity. An opportunity to hurt Dean again. So he kicked him another time. Without a slight hesitation or regret.

And since Dean was on the ground, Seth kneeled next to him and helped himself to the T-shirt. At that point Dean was too weak to resist so taking his shirt was very easy. While he was in pain, Seth got him on the back while he was above him, with his lower legs on top of Dean's thighs so that he couldn't move much. Seth's hands went on to hold Dean's arms after the shirt was off. If he acted fast he could get more work done while Dean was incapable. Seth managed to undo the belt and unzip the pants. That was when Dean interfered and tried to fight Seth away.

"Now, how do you like that?" Seth asked. "Being undressed. . . . It's nothing nice, is it?" He wanted to make Dean feel the same he did moments ago.

Dean preferred looking away than directly into Seth's eyes. He knew Seth's been watching him and he felt intimidated. If that was Seth's goal, he succeeded. But clearly Seth wanted more. And not even Dean's anger and lack of cooperation could stop him. Finally Dean looked into the eyes of the enemy.

From where Roman was sitting it all looked a bit different. The anger on Dean's side became tension that got all the way to where Roman was sitting. And Seth, he looked pretty excited. All in all, it was a really strange situation. Not that he would stop watching. . . . He wanted to know what would happen next. What were Seth's intentions? And would Dean at some point stop him? This was all too interesting to not follow the story. There was a time, though, he wanted to ask "Should I give you some privacy?" but he didn't want to disturb so he stayed quiet. Instead, he located Seth's phone lying on the ground not that far away from him and decided to take it. Sure, taking pictures proved to be a disturbance before and a reason for anger, but those two were too much into each other to even notice. Besides, Roman would make sure the volume was down before taking the picture and add to the collection.

They were striking each other with their eyes and, yes, there was evident tension. What caused it was hard to tell.

Seth put his hands on Dean's hips. Dean was too slow to react. Although now he was physically strong enough to intervene, something stopped him from doing so. It wasn't Seth. It was the strange feeling. Confusion. Intimidation. Bewilderment over Seth's actions.

As Seth was trying to find a way to take off Dean's pants without moving his own body, Dean put his hands on Seth's. "Let's not do anything we might regret later, okay?" he addressed Seth in a familiar manner.

The answer for Dean was a smile. Not a hesitant one. Not a confused one. Confident one. Seth had the power, and that gave him confidence. With Dean's hands on his or without them, Seth continued. Dean was not emotionally strong enough to do anything anyway. At least not right now. So before it was too late, Seth pulled down the pants, and even though he had to leave Dean's body at some point, there was almost non-existent protest when he returned. He was able to take the position he had before. On top of Dean. Now the only thing that stood between them was Dean's underwear.

For few seconds, or maybe even a minute, they maintained the eye contact. While Dean's whole helpless body lay on the ground, Seth was leaning over Dean, with knees on the ground and his palms touching the ground. Dean was surrounded from left, right, and above. Seth was the only thing he could see. And he kept staring into his eyes. He was even close enough to feel Seth's breath on his face. He could hear him breathing. He just wished his hands weren't obstructed so that he could slap him in the face.

But Seth was in charge, and he was about to remove the dignity that stood between them. That was Dean's chance. He got his hands on Seth and started strangling him. Seth kept a cool head and instead of struggling he moved up and aimed to intimidate Dean enough to let go. Dean did let go. If it was because of the expression he saw on Seth's face or because Seth's balls were touching his lower abdomen did not really matter. What mattered to Seth was the victory. But he did not mean to punish Dean for the failed attempt. In fact, he smiled. He was having so much fun.


	23. Chapter 23

"You like it dirty, huh?" Seth asked. It appeared he was intentionally making his voice sound seductively.

"Don't," Dean begged. He turned his face because he couldn't handle the sight. He was already disgusted enough by the closeness of Seth's naked body.

"_You_ wanted to play. . . ."

This was probably the time when Dean was supposed to rethink his behavior, stop fooling around, stop making jokes of others and forcing them to do things they did not want to. If Seth was doing this in order to make Dean realize it was time to act his age, he would perhaps leave it as soon as Dean did. But this theory had to be wrong. At that moment, Dean looked as though he had surrendered. He wasn't enjoying the game, he was suffering because of it. Yet Seth continued. With excitement.

Seth's hands again found their why on Dean's hips. Dean made a mistake of looking up. From that moment on, Seth watched his eyes and Dean was unable to look away. Seth kept an eye contact to be able to intervene as soon as Dean decides to object. Whether it was the fear caused by the self-assured look was hard to tell, but Dean did not move. Not even when Seth started to move his left hand up and down Dean's waist. It brought a ticklish sensation which was far from pleasurable. Dean felt uncomfortable, but that was something Seth had to know since he kept persistently staring into Dean's frightened eyes.

The smile on Seth's face looked more evil that it was supposed to. Unaware of this, Seth added to the hostility that Dean was feeling toward him by getting closer to him. Their bodies were almost touching. For somebody looking from distance he might have resembled Randy Orton before he hits his RKO.

"Close your eyes," Seth suggested to Dean, "it'll make it easier for you."

Dean swallowed with difficulty. This all become unbearable. He required personal space. He needed to get air. But he was surrounded and he was too weak to do anything about it. So he listened to Seth and closed his eyes.

"Be quick," Dean said his wish before shutting down his consciousness. He didn't want to know what would happen.

Seth moved back to his previous position. Then he moved even further so that he'd be able to take off Dean's underwear. When he did, he put it aside and stood up.

He stared at Dean just lying there. Then he asked, "What do you think is going to happen?"

It took Dean a while to get himself to respond. He didn't even notice Seth was no longer on top of him. Because he wasn't sure what would follow, he kept his eyes shut. "I don't know," he mumbled. When Seth wanted to say something, he added, "I don't want to know."

"Dean," Seth called.

Dean did not reply. He went on trying to isolate himself from the outside world. His head was on the ground, sideways. The reason was if he opened his eyes, Seth wouldn't be the first thing he'd see.

"Dean . . . stand up."

Now he noticed that the voice came from great distance that it was supposed to. He opened his eyes and looked in front of him. First thing he noticed was that he was naked. Not that he already didn't know; it was just that now he saw it too. Then he saw Seth.

"Are you . . . are you scared of me?" Seth asked.

Dean shook his head. But he was. That was why he remained in the same position and seemed unwilling to stand up. He wasn't very eager to speak either.

"Why don't you stand up?" It sounded like a friendly suggestion. In fact, Seth's tone has changed. His whole attitude appeared more relaxed.

Suspicion wouldn't leave Dean. "Why do you want me to stand up?" he asked. In his mind, there was a belief that Seth had a plan that involved Dean. It had to involve something he would oppose, but Seth would make him do it anyway. Somehow, though, Seth's standing up did not seem to follow the course.

"I don't _want_ you to stand up. I'm just telling it's a possibility. You do whatever you want. You just appear like you've lost all your free will." Seth acted as if there was no reason for Dean to be hesitant about doing something. But in reality, it wasn't like he was not punished for his actions before.

Dean sat up, that was the first step. But he remained unsure whether doing something was the right choice. Wasn't Seth trying to trick him into something?

Seth did not care. He looked at the ground to his left, not at Dean. He was interested in the piece of fabric laying there. Dean's underwear. Seth's goal wasn't to get Dean naked . . . for some reason that would require that condition. All he wanted was to make him take off his clothes . . . so that he could use it.

He did not waver when he was about to put on other man's underwear. It was something. Anything that would make him less naked was welcomed.

Now Dean finally came to himself. He stood up – he jumped up. "What are you doing?" he asked. His voice lost all the uncertainty and fear. Concern emerged. Mixed with discontent, and even annoyance. The courage that it took for Seth to put on something that touched somebody else's private parts – the courage that Dean would never gather – was of no importance to Dean. He found the action inappropriate and insulting. "What are you doing?!" That was close to a shout.

"You think you can undress me and ruin my clothes and I'll let you walk around with your clothes on?" Seth grabbed Dean's pants and laughed. "No, no, no. You taste your own medicine."

Dean's reflexes were fast. He grabbed the pants that Seth was holding, about to put it on. "You're not wearing my clothes," Dean angrily informed him.

"Oh, I am. I don't mind to fight for it. . . . I know I'll win."

"Really?" Dean asked, smiling.

Seth did not get the meaning of that smile. Only when Dean pulled the pants and tore it apart Seth realized it was "I have it, or nobody." Of course he wasn't happy with Dean's solution. And Dean wasn't done yet. He picked up his T-shirt and destroyed that one as well . . . even though Seth did not seem particularly interested in it.

Then Dean focused on Seth's crotch. "Take it off," Dean commanded. It was interesting to see how quickly he regained confidence. Just few minutes ago he was helplessly lying on the ground, scared of his own shadow, now he was assured he could make Seth his puppet again. All this, naked. "Take it off, or I'll tear it off you."

At first Seth refused to surrender, no matter the circumstances, but then he realized what may happen to him if he keeps fighting. He gave Dean a good example earlier when he kicked him the balls . . . twice. That wasn't something Seth wanted to undergo. Besides, Seth was sure Dean kept a list of all possible ways to hurt people. He didn't want to become a guinea pig. But avoiding violence would mean he would have to give up the clothes. Clothes that he worked so hard to get.

After careful consideration, he decided to take off the underwear.

"Right choice," Dean commented, and leaned to take it. Before he could, Seth stepped on it.

"You're not getting it either," Seth told him.

Confusion was resolved as soon as Seth destroyed that piece of clothing as well. Now there was nothing left.

Except . . . Roman, they simultaneously remembered. Fortunately, Roman was quick enough to hide the phone. They wouldn't know about the picture…s. Or the video…s. But he wasn't sure what they wanted him to become part of. He wanted to take their mind off whatever they were thinking of. "You know you're naked, right?" he noted.

"Yeah, you mind?" Dean asked.

"No."

"Good. Then you won't mind getting naked as well."

Roman looked at Dean, then at Seth. Did they just become partners? The hostility seemed to have disappeared, and although they were standing right next to each other, there were no signs they would start fighting. Unless they would fight him. Dammit! These alliances are so weak. Just minutes ago he was teaming with Dean. _Fuck you, Seth_, he thought to himself. If it wasn't for Seth's stupid suggestion, he would be safe. Never become neutral. Never!

He better try to escape before it's too late. He ran, as others did before. Would he be the one, the only one, to succeed in running away? He damn wished so. 'Cause that image of two naked guys running after him would haunt him in his sleep. And if they were to catch him . . . jump on him and get him on the ground. . . . That'd become a nightmare that would torment him for the rest of his life.


	24. Chapter 24

They followed him for about a minute. Then they let him escape. Deliberately. They stopped. Well, Dean did – this was too bizarre even for him – and Seth understood it that the hunt had ended.

"It'll take him a while to realize we're not running after him."

Seth welcomed the early end of the activity he wasn't particularly interested in. Besides, he did not really care about Roman at the moment. "Why are we naked?" he asked as though he just realized it. In a way, it all came to him only now.

"I don't know, dude," Dean said, looking at Seth standing next to him.

"Stop looking at me, alright?"

"There's something hypnotizing about this sight," Dean replied, clearly kidding but he seriously couldn't take his eyes off Seth in the beginning. Finally he let go of watching him. Everything seemed strange. And he felt uncomfortable. And really, _really_ naked. "Let's go get some clothes," he suggested, and started walking in the direction where he thought the car was parked.

"Let's get something to eat too."

"Oh, yeah," Dean said dreamingly. That was another sudden realization that came to him just now. He was terribly hungry.

"Couldn't we just go home?" asked Seth. Hungry, dirty, exhausted, going home seemed the best thing to do.

"One more night."

Seth did not understand. "You still want to stick to the plan?"

"Sure. The weather is good."

Seth sighed. He didn't care that much anyway. Crucial need was food and clothes. Probably in _that _order. Or . . . well, he wanted both, preferably right now.

"When was the last time we've eaten?" wondered Seth.

"Look, talking about food won't make it any better."

"You're right; it's making me hungrier. When I imagine a nice, thick steak . . ." He drooled.

"Stop it."

Seth shook his head to get rid of the images that his brain kept coming up with. But then realized, "I don't have any other conversational topic in mind."

"We don't need to talk."

"So we'll just walk in silence? Just two dudes walking side by side, _naked_?" Seth asked.

"No homo," Dean added which brought Seth's eyes on him.

Seth asked, he had to, "Should we talk about . . . you know, what happened?"

"Oh, please, let's not."

"Like . . . never?"

"Yes!" Dean shouted. "Never!" He calmed down a bit – not that he was angry or anything; it just brought back things to his mind that he wanted to forget about, and made him emotional. "These are not memories I want to keep," he explained to Seth who felt the same way.

"I'm sorry I took the picture of you and Roman –"

"No need to specify," Dean interrupted, "When you say picture it's enough, I know what you're talking about. Not like I'll be able to forget about that anytime soon. . . ."

"Yeah, anyway, I'll delete it . . . just. . . ." He was about to put his hands in the pockets of his pants when he realized he wasn't wearing any. "Where's my phone?"

Dean looked – of course he did – but the sight disgusted him immediately. "Clearly not on you," he commented while regrets of even looking filled his mind.

Seth stopped and looked behind his shoulder. "I probably left it there. I need to go back."

"Argh." Dean wasn't pleased. He just wanted to get to the car as fast as possible.

"What if somebody finds it?" Seth argued.

"Right, because this place is crowded."

"I can't just leave it there!"

"Yes, you can . . . for now. Look, we'll have to return there afterwards anyway. I think it can wait till then. . . . Or, you know, go back there and I'll just continue." There were several options; Dean's accompanying of Seth was not one.

"I guess you're right, we'll have to go clean it later. Geez, do you realize we spend half of the time producing the mess, then the rest cleaning it?"

"We can leave it there." Dean smiled. He got a crazy idea. "Wouldn't it be cool if it all stayed untouched and then in a couple of years they turned it into a museum?"

Seth's reaction was silence followed with sarcastic laughter. "Yeah, like _and this is the place where Dean Ambrose sucked Roman Reigns's dick_. . . .," Seth said in a serious, educational voice of a museum guide.

Dean awarded Seth's creativity with a bitter look, but he got what he asked for.

Seth continued, "Oh, and the sign at the entrance would say 'Ever wondered what professional wrestlers did on their days off?'"

"You're laughing now but you won't be when I include this information in my speech at your funeral."

"What makes you think I'll die first?"

"Guess," Dean said, and let him think about it for a second.

They spent the rest of the journey in silence. Fortunately, Dean's sense of orientation got them to the car quickly and without getting lost.

Dean stopped and exclaimed, "Shit." He sighed.

"What?"

"We don't have the key."

"Shit."

"Can you break the window?"

Seth looked at Dean in surprise. "Why me?"

"You're stronger," Dean complimented him just to make him do it. It did not work. Initially. Then Seth realized his desire to put some clothes on was greater than his natural instinct to oppose Dean and fight with him for every stupid reason. He moved to the window to try to break it with his elbow.

Dean looked behind. He wondered if he should tell Seth that they could take a pole from their tent standing nearby and use it to break into the car. He looked at Seth. _Nah, he looks like he knows what he's doing_, Dean thought and stayed quiet.

He didn't. All Seth knew was that this wouldn't work. "There's got to be a way," he mumbled.

"Hmm."

"What?" asked Seth, hoping Dean had a better plan.

"The trunk is open."

"Yes!"

"That's weird. I'm sure I closed it."

"Well, don't close it now," Seth shouted because he suspected Dean might be stupid enough to do that.

Now they had access to the most important things: clothes and food.

They did not postpone putting it to good use.

While Seth aimed for the clothes first Dean found himself unable to resist the mini travel fridge.

Seth looked at Dean. "Would you mind putting something on?"

Dean, chewing a bite of sandwich, glanced at Seth and replied, "You undress me and now you mind I'm naked?"

"Yes."

Dean shook his head. "Sorry for having different priorities, mister I-don't-eat-next-to-a-naked-guy." Subsequently, Dean put down the sandwich and took out pants and a shirt that he wouldn't swear belonged to him. Then he returned to satisfying his hunger.

"Don't you feel bad for Roman?" Seth asked after a while.

"Who? Oh, yeah, no. You want a beer?"

Seth looked ahead, reflecting. "I want to get drunk. I can't. I want to forget about everything. I can't –"

"Look, dude, the beer is all I'm offering. Take it or leave it."

Dean was about to put it back inside when Seth grabbed it, "Give it to me."

"Besides, you have nothing to complain about. This trip has been a bed of roses for you. If I were keeping score –"

"You are keeping score. . . ."

"Well, when it comes to embarrassment, loss of dignity, and uncomfortable situations, without a doubt, I win."

"That's not what I'd call a victory," Seth objected.

"It may be a Pyrrhic victory but it still counts."

Seth grinned. He gave Dean that one. "Well, I guess that's one way to look at it." Surely, it was the only way Dean was able to keep smile on his face. Either that or he believed he could still turn it around. That one, though, seemed very unlikely.


	25. Chapter 25

"You want to stay here forever or what?" Dean asked. Finally, he noticed the flat tire. And, knowing he, Seth, and Roman were the only three people around, and being almost one hundred percent sure it was not himself, it had to be either Seth or Roman who did it. Unless some third party threw a sword into it, in which case they had a good reason to worry.

"What are you referring to?" Seth asked politely.

"Our three-wheeled car."

"Oh, that," Seth exclaimed. He was happy the matter was not serious.

Dean did not share Seth's slackness. "Didn't we have a spare tire? I'm pretty sure we had one."

"We still do. It just changed location."

"Just like that, huh?"

"It's under the car, if you need to know."

"Why?" Dean asked.

Seth sighed. "You really wanna know the whole story?"

Dean shook his head. He was too tired to even care. That was why he decided to go inside the tent. Once there, he lay down and closed his eyes. He did not mean to sleep – even though he easily could – all he needed was a little bit of rest. And isolation from the outside world. That wish stayed unfulfilled because in next minute Seth was already right beside him.

"Was this ground always this comfortable?" Dean wondered. The need for silence was suppressed by Seth's presence.

Seth decided to try and see if Dean had a point. "Aww." He had.

"I know, right? I could spend a week just lying here, doing nothing."

Seth raised his head. "But we're still going home tomorrow, right?"

"Well, home . . . that's a bit of an exaggeration." Dean started reflecting on the whole concept of home. "But I guess when you spend most of your time away from home you have to give that word a more liberal meaning." Dean turned to Seth when he heard a chuckle.

"Home is where you don't have to sleep on the ground."

"Home is where the house isn't permanently on the move."

"Home is where you can leave the toilet seat up," Seth said.

Dean suspiciously looked at him. "Can you do that at home?"

Seth frowned and sadly replied, "No."

Dean lay on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking up at the point where the construction poles of the tent were connecting. "I wish I could call in sick."

Seth shared that desire. He knew exactly what Dean was talking about. Just as well, he knew that it was something that would never come true. Nevertheless, it had its bright side. "Imagine you could spend another day outside the ring. By yourself. What would you do?"

"Nothing."

"And what is it that you do when you do nothing?"

The conversation got confusing for Dean. He couldn't quite grasp what Seth was trying to say. For him, the answer was obvious. "When you do nothing you do nothing," he cleared that out for Seth.

Seth sighed. He felt misunderstood. "No. You start thinking. Reflecting. You want that?"

"We're talking on a hypothetical level here. Neither of us is getting a day off." He changed the approach when he saw Seth's disapproving expression. "I get what you're saying. You are right, I suppose. Being busy takes your mind off things. So I guess it's a good thing we have to work after all."

"That's the spirit," joked Seth. "Now should we start worrying about Roman?" he changed the topic.

"I wouldn't worry about him. He finds his way back home."

"What are you saying? You don't mean to leave him here, do you?" Judging by Seth's tone, he would be very much against it.

Dean chuckled. Although it sounded appealing, that wasn't what he had on his mind saying that sentence. "He'll get here. He knows where we're camping."

"Does he?"

"We had no problems finding it, so why should he?"

"We're waiting then?"

"Yep."

Seth sighed heavily. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence. He thought of the days to come. The work that was awaiting him. The exciting promos he would shoot. All the boos he would get. That's the stuff, he thought to himself, smiling. Honestly, he was looking forward to stepping back in the ring and he was sure Dean was as well, only exhaustion obscured their vision of imminent future. The recent moments still lingered on their minds and made everything else look more distant. But the truth was, it was over. The trip was coming to an end, and, judging by the exhaustion of the ones who were involved, nothing exciting would happen. That was surely a good thing, because although there had been many activities full of action, they were not necessarily enjoyable. Maybe one day they will turn into nice memories when they get old and start reflecting on the good old days. It may come to become something that'll make them chuckle. Now it was just something that was forcing their bodies to turn off. Exhaustion was evident and it would not be surprising if one or both of them fell asleep. Yet they somehow managed to stay awake.

"Have I told you about that one time I hitchhiked?" Dean suddenly said.

"No."

"I stood by the side of the road and this chick pulled over. It was getting dark outside and I was glad somebody would get me a ride because I had no idea where I was."

"Let me guess," Seth interrupted, "drunk?"

The assumption did not offend Dean. "No," he honestly answered and continued, "It had to be near a forest, I think. I don't know," he reflected. "There weren't many cars passing by; I knew I was lucky she stopped. It was strange, in a way, actually."

"Because it was dark and you can look rather intimidating?"

"Yeah." Dean smiled. "But I didn't think about it then. I just got in," he said. "She was kinda hot."

"You banged her."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. It did not necessarily have to mean Seth's guess was wrong, but it probably was.

"Oh, by the way," Dean remembered to mention a somewhat, but not really that much, important fact, "it was raining. My hair was wet and all over my forehead. I was trying to put it aside, so I didn't really pay attention to her when I asked where she was heading."

Seth watched the roof of the tent. The story seemed more interesting to Dean than to Seth. But he let him talk.

"As I was fastening the seatbelt I realized she was watching me. I looked at her, thought she might like was she saw. Soon I understood that was not the reason why she was watching me. She was waiting for my reaction."

"Reaction? To what?" Seth asked, pretending to be interested.

Dean chuckled. "It turned out she was pointing a gun at my stomach, I just didn't notice."

"What?" Seth looked at him. He wasn't expecting that twist. "What did you do?"

"What do you do in situations like these?" Dean posed a rhetorical question.

"Give her the wallet and run away."

That made Dean smile. "No. You think about the person who's holding the gun. Consider what they might do."

"Well, that's pretty clear; they can kill you."

"That's the question. Can they? _Will_ they? It's all just a question of what they're capable of."

"That seems too much of a risk to me."

"It can be; I'm not saying it's not hazardous. But when you look that person in the eyes, when you examine the way she's holding the weapon, you know, you _know_ what's gonna happen."

"You can't be serious," Seth exclaimed. How confident and mostly stupid Dean was to protest when facing a chance to die.

Seth's astonishment couldn't wipe that smile off Dean's face. "Getting scared is the worst thing you can do in situations like these," was Dean's 'clever' advice.

"I can't believe you're still alive," Seth admitted.

Dean looked down, reflecting. Yeah, he went through some pretty dangerous situations during his lifetime. He won over every single one. He still stood tall. The day he gives up will be the last day of his life. "You want to know what I did?" Seth's answer did not matter for it was clear he wanted to hear how the story went. "I looked at her; I did not break the eye contact for a single second. I wanted her to know that I was not afraid. That way she loses her confidence. Even though I wasn't looking I knew her hand was shaking. She might have done it before but this was certainly the first time anyone refused to obey. I knew what to do. I placed my hand over hers. Then I grabbed the gun. I pointed it at her." Dean smiled. "You should have seen the fear in her eyes. She did not see that coming. I said to her, 'If you're afraid of losing, don't play the game.'" He looked at Seth. "You need to say stuff like that to assert your dominance."

"You didn't. . . ."

"No. Of course not. I took the bullets out of the gun and threw them out the window. Then I handed her the gun."

"Why?"

"It belonged to her. And I had no business with it."

"But –" Seth still considered it stupid.

"It was harmless."

Seth shook his head. "If you say so. . . . So did you do anything else? Did you give her a lecture on how attacking someone is stupid? Or you just got out of the car?"

"No. Why?"

"Wait, you stayed?" Seth asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I still needed a ride."


	26. Chapter 26

Seth shook his head. Once again, the credibility of Dean's narrative was questionable. Though he wished it were true. At times he liked to think of Dean as an anti-hero, the way Dean portrayed himself in this particular story. A guy that was a bit crazy but still presented a figure Seth liked to look up to. Person he was able to despise and admire at the same time. To Seth, Dean was definitely one of those people that he'd shed a tear for while burying his body deep in the ground so that nobody'd find him, and Seth's crime would never be known. Well, one day it may come down to that.

"Talking about stories," Seth suddenly remembered something that almost successfully escaped his mind for good. "Yesterday's competition doesn't have a winner yet." Although the storytelling time was almost 24 hours in the past, it could not be forgotten. Competition had to be resolved.

"_That_. . . . Hmm. I guess we could call it a tie and I could keep the prize," Dean suggested.

"One, no way! Two, what's the prize?" His face cheered up. He had no idea what it was, although he imagined it was probably something stupid, but he wanted it.

"A hooker?" Dean said in a tone suggesting a question, maybe intending to find out what Seth's opinion on that kind of reward would be.

"No. . . .," Seth refused to believe, his eyes squinted. "What's the prize?" he asked again.

"Well. . . ." For a reason mysterious to Seth, Dean was avoiding answering the question.

"OMG! It's the hooker, isn't it?" Seth shouted, strangely excited.

"Not really. Maybe next time, now that I know you'd welcome that kind of prize."

Seth did not hurry to protest. "I wouldn't. . . ." he said quietly. "But seriously, what is it? And who gets it?" As Seth mentioned earlier, they haven't chosen the winner yet. And even if they got equal vote, since Roman was not present, those two could hardly agree on which story was the best. However, even under these circumstances, Seth was able to find a solution. "To be fair," he started, "you never told the story. So the only two people eligible to participate and win are Ro and I. And since Roman does not care enough to even show up, I'd say it's clear. I should win."

Dean smiled. He did not protest – maybe surprisingly – but Seth doubted he would be declared the winner that easily. How astonished he was when Dean said, "All right. You want it? You got it."

"Seriously?"

"Sure."

Now that enthusiasm on Dean's part was suspicious. "Wait a minute. What's the prize?" The change of tone in Seth's voice reflected the change of image that Seth had of the prize. Initially he thought it was something stupid but funny and enjoyable. Now he realized it was probably more of a punishment that an award. God, how he wished it were a trophy. Something simple that wouldn't bring anyone to tears because of misfortune that befell him. "I don't want it," Seth came to realize.

"You sure?"

"No. . . . What is it? Damn it! And damn you, Ambrose."

Dean put his hands in front of his body in defending gesture. "Okay. I'm not forcing you take it."

Seth was looking at him suspiciously. What kind of game was Dean playing? "Then I want it."

"Look, I'll just save you from this misery saying that, in fact, the prize is for all of us."

"Why?" Neither now did Seth appear satisfied.

"Because I thought that it would be a nice end of this trip and that we'd all deserve it. I knew beforehand that in 24 hours you two would come to hate me so I wanted to make it up to you and I booked us a hotel for this night."

Seth chuckled. "That's actually . . . nice."

"It would be," Dean admitted, "but there's one problem."

"Which is?"

"We don't know where Roman is."

"Well, I never liked him anyway," Seth said as a way to get out of there. He's been there less than a day, yet he hated the place and wanted to leave so bad.

Dean smiled but said seriously, "As you already said, we can't leave him here."

Seth looked at the ground. Why does it have to be so difficult? Why can't he just show up? At that moment Seth looked outside hoping to spot Roman but he had no luck. Roman was probably somewhere deep inside the forest.

Seth sighed. "I'll never forgive him if because of him I have to spend another night here."

Dean didn't see the situation that hopelessly. "Look, it's not that late. I'm sure he'll come here soon. I mean, it's not like he has anywhere else to go."

"If we ever want to meet again, do you seriously think it's better to wait here than trying to find him?" Seth asked, and hearing from his voice, he disagreed with Dean on this point.

"_Trying_," Dean picked one word from Seth's sentence that was to serve as an evidence for Dean's idea being superior to Seth's. "_Trying to find him._ . . . You see, there's no assurance we would find him. But if we stay here, he'll come. Maybe not tonight. . . . But he certainly will."

"What if doesn't come even in the morning? What will we do then?" Seth asked, his voice raising.

"Don't panic. He's not a ten year old child that we need to find because he'll die without his inhaler."

Seth looked at him spitefully. "I hope you have booked separate rooms."

"To be honest, no. Also, you should probably know that there are only two beds in the room so somebody'll have to share. . . ."

Yeah, it did sound too good to be true. But it still was so much better than the tent the three of them occupied together and that enabled them only minor movement if they did not want to share an intimate moment with somebody.

To avoid arguments, Dean suggested "Hey, how about doing something in the meantime to take our mind off things? I have a great –"

Seth did not let him finish. "Our clothes is still in the middle of the forest. If we are to do something, we should clean that mess."

"That doesn't like fun at all."

"We have to do it at some point," Seth told him.

Dean frowned. But it was probably the cleverest thing to do. They wouldn't want to leave any evidence of their games with overly sexual undertone.

Dean left the tent to go to the car. He got a piece of paper and a pen to write a message for Roman, in case he shows up. Once in the car, he grabbed a beer can and opened it. The flow of liquid down his throat was calming, but it also reminded him he had to pee.

"Hey Seth," he shouted, "would you put this on the tent, or inside of it, somewhere Roman sees it? I need to. . . ."

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" Seth asked. "We can't just all disperse. It's enough that we don't know where Roman is."

Seth's vehemency made Dean surrender. "Fine. I can pee here," he said.

But as soon as Dean started unzipping his pants, Seth started to object again. "What are you doing?"

Dean looked at Seth _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ kind of way. Finally, Seth let go off provoking him and chose to turn around. Seth put the note on what he thought a visible place, then went over to Dean so that they could get the tidying up going.

They stood still. Seth looked at Dean. "You know which way to go?"

"Since it was you suggesting to go back there, I thought you would know."

"Well, I don't, okay?"

"All right. You can follow my lead if you want to, but I'm not promising I'll get us there."

Seth sighed. "No!" he cried in an annoyed, tiredly sounding voice. "Why? Why me?" he started pitying himself. "It'll take us forever to get there . . . and another forever to get back here."

"I wouldn't see so tragically. We got here once. . . ."

"Yeah, we got here once. What are the odds we'll have that much luck again?" Seth countered.

"Hey," Dean said, "you wanna bet if Roman's gonna get here sooner than us?"

This was a disaster. Seth breathed in heavily and let out a moaning sound. Then he looked at Dean. "Sure."


	27. Chapter 27

Fifteen-minute walk seemed too much to Seth. "When are you going to admit that you have no idea where we are?"

Dean stopped. He wouldn't support that attitude on his watch. "Can't believe how little faith you have in me, Seth."

"And I can't believe how confident you are even though you know we're lost."

Dean shook his head. So much disappointment.

"Fifteen minutes! It's been fifteen minutes and there's no progress."

"Would you like to reconsider?" Dean stretched his left arm and pointed to Seth's right. The place they had been "desperately" looking for was only some 250 feet away.

As a result, Seth was made to look at his feet because embarrassment prevented him from looking straight at Dean. And in no way he would apologize.

"Unless you believe in magic, Seth, you have to admit that my skill was what got us here." He showed no signs of being mad at Seth, though. This was alright. He knew that inside Seth felt obliged to admit he was wrong, and it did not matter that he wouldn't say it out loud. Dean had made a point and that sufficed.

Seth continued walking and Dean soon followed him. "I'll need to find my phone," Seth said with great urge. "Meanwhile you can take care of the clothes."

"What do you want me to do with it? Pile it up and set it on fire?"

"Sure, why not. . . ." Seth replied, but it was clear he did not pay any attention to Dean. He had to find the phone. It contained the evidence. And more. There was too much personal information and pictures he wouldn't want anyone to see. "Where is it, damn it!" he exclaimed.

"Don't know, don't care."

"You know, Dean, it's also in your best interest to find it."

"Yeah, still don't care. . . ." As he was speaking, he was collecting all the ripped up, smelly, muddy, dirty clothes. Not one piece was perfectly fine. In the end, it was probably better to not being able to use it ever again.

"Seriously? You wouldn't mind if people saw the picture?"

Dean stood still for a minute and thought. Well, at least that was how it appeared. In reality, he had the answer thought out right at the beginning. "No. Who knows, maybe it would even make a good storyline. . . ." He started thinking in wrestling terms. If WWE Universe liked it, they could make it work. It could go on for months, maybe even years. For sure, it would be an interesting development of his character. "Hey, we three could reunite and it would be like," he made his voice sound serious, "The Shield, close than ever." Dean laughed.

Seth did not find it that much funny but he smiled. "Except it wouldn't be quite PG," he reminded Dean. "Anyhow. . . ." His eyes again locked on the ground. "I can't see it," he said, clearly disappointed. He sounded to have given up, though. Maybe it was better to prepare for the worst scenario. "It's gone."

"I'm sorry for your loss. But then again," Dean said, "maybe Roman's got it."

That was a possibility. One that confused Seth as to whether to be happy or angry with Roman for taking it. Either way, he would have to wait to find out if it even were true.

Now that his to-do list was empty, he decided to help Dean. Except Dean was doing fine on his own. He had already made a hill out of the clothes he found lying all around. He even got a lighter in his hand. . . .

"You're kidding, right?" Seth shouted. "You can't start a fire here."

"You said it was okay," Dean objected.

"When?!"

"A few minutes ago."

The sight of flame made Seth nervous. He knew it wasn't a candle and there was no wax that could accidentally fall on the shirt. Not that it would start a fire. . . . Even if the lighter fell out of Dean's hand, the flame would disappear before hitting the ground. He was aware that the possibility of an accident was slight, but seeing Dean having a lighter in his hand, he felt really uneasy.

"Panicking, aren't we?" Dean grinned. "You know, my T-shirt may be saying _Unstable_, but don't believe everything you see." That sentence did not have the anticipated calming effect on Seth. "Breathe, Seth, I'm not _that_ stupid as to actually burn it." He thought and then added, "At least not here." The idea of burning the evidence attracted him, so he would not claim to never do it. Maybe a bit later.

"Could you put out the fire?"

Dean was too hypnotized by watching the flame to make Seth's wish come true.

"Dean!" The call did not succeed in making Dean respond. "Dean!" Seth noticed the smirk on Dean's face as he happily put a finger through the fire, playing with it. "Dean! Dean! Dean! Dean! Dean!"

"What? What? What? What? _What?!_" Dean finally replied, loudly and angrily.

"Stop! You can do this in your free time."

"_This_ is my free time."

"Okay," Seth involuntarily gave in. He realized orders would not do. A change in strategy was essential. "I'd just like to point out that it's getting late and we've done nothing."

"And whose fault is that?" By Dean's tone it was evident he thought it was not _his_ fault. "I had a great plan. I had planned a funny day full of activities. But no," he changed his voice to bass and continued speaking in a really low voice, probably imitating somebody. "We don't trust your innocent intentions, _Dean,_ so we're just gonna kidnap you and do things to you that you will never forget about." He returned to his regular voice. "So dear Seth, don't blame me."

Seth let Dean finish his monologue, only then replied. "Yeah, that's not quite what I meant. I meant that we need to clean this up and find Roman."

"First, done," he said and pointed at the sculpture in front of him that he so masterly created in two minutes, "and second, I thought we agreed we wouldn't look for Roman, we'd let him find us. Although. . . ." Dean did not finish the thought.

"Although what?"

Only after a minute of contemplation Dean decided to reveal to Seth what he realized. "Roman's got all the stuff. He has the gun, he very likely has your phone, and, most importantly, he has the car keys. For all we know, he might be out of here already."

"No." Roman would not leave them there, would he?

"So how about a new bet? I bet you when we'll return to the campsite, our car won't be there. And to make it more interesting, I bet double."

"You now that double nothing is still nothing, right?" Seth told him.

"Alright, smartass. The first bet is fifty, this one's a hundred."

They shook hands. Seth decided to keep the fact that if Roman really had left Dean had no chance of winning the first bet secret. So while Dean could possibly win only one bet, which made Seth a half-winner already, Seth could win both. He just needed for Roman to be quicker than them. And of course no sudden disappearance of their car, which would complicate things. But in general, Seth had good reason for elevated mood. Even if Roman found the place where they had their temporal home, Seth trusted him enough to believe he wouldn't leave. Hopefully, Roman would not disappoint him.

"Grab half of this," Dean said while already forcing several pieces of clothing into Seth's arms. He looked around if there was anything else that needed to be done, but it looked good enough. No personal things, that had to suffice. That looked as time to leave. "Alright then. Let's find out who wins, shall we?"


	28. Chapter 28

"I win!" shouted Dean.

"Congrats." The reply was accompanied with a slow, sarcastic clapping.

"And that's 150."

"What?! No way."

"I win, you pay," Dean insisted. Surprisingly his mood remained elevated. Seth wondered how long before it hits him.

But finally Seth surrendered. He reached into his pocket and took out fifty bucks. "Here."

"And the rest?"

"I'll give you another fifty tomorrow."

"But you owe me one hundred," Dean counted. He wasn't mistaken. Seth just had different opinion.

"Technically, you won only the second bet," he maintained. He started wondering. He lost; how come he thought he had one victory certain? There had to be a major miscalculation. Whatever. . . . One bet still hasn't been resolved and maybe never would.

"I can't give you victory that you have no claim for."

"What are you talking about? We're here first." Dean was prepared to fight for it.

"But Roman's not here at all. You said he'd be here second."

"That's basically the same thing," argued Dean. He wanted the rest of his money.

"Phrasing, Dean. You don't win."

Dean spat with resentment. "Fine," he uttered in between his teeth. "But then I can still win."

Seth ignorantly shook his shoulders. "Perhaps."

Now that the discussion was over and the whole place fell silent, Dean's eyes set on the empty spot not that far from them. Slowly the joy that he felt was decreasing until it disappeared completely. What a bitter victory. The car was gone. And Roman was not there either.

"We're trapped here now, aren't we?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, well, I've been trapped here since yesterday, so now you know how I feel," Seth let him know and walked away. There was no point in standing there, waiting. Yet that was exactly what Dean was doing. And he'd welcome some reassurance too.

"He'll come back, won't he?" he asked but got no response.

Seth was already on his way to the tent. He unzipped it and got in. In about two minutes, he knew Dean would join him inside. One can only desperately stare at nothing for so long.

Seth lay down. A recurrent yawning reminded him how tired he actually was. He could so easily fall sleep. Why wouldn't he? Oh, yeah, that's why, he realized when he noticed Dean entering the tent. It took him faster than Seth thought.

"So what are we going to do?" Dean asked.

"You mean now or generally?" All depended on how much faith the two guys had in Roman. Would he or would he not return?

As if Dean suddenly lost his interest, he gave no answer. But he lay down next to Seth. Peaceful look on his face. Exhaustion in his eyes. For sure he did not appear to give much damn about their current situation. They've been in deeper shit and they got up again. There's always a way; if you don't find it, it'll find you.

Just for the sake of it, Dean started singing.

_On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair_

_Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air_

_Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light_

_My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim_

_I had to stop for the night_

_There she stood in the doorway;_

_I heard the mission bell_

_And I was thinking to myself,_

_"This could be Heaven or this could be Hell"_

_Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way_

_There were voices down the corridor,_

_I thought I heard them say..._

_Welcome to the Hotel California_

_Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)_

_Such a lovely face_

_Plenty of room at the Hotel California_

_Any time of year (Any time of year)_

_You can find it here_

Dean's voice was soft and had a calming effect. So calming that Seth fell asleep. He was snoring quietly. Dean noticed it and smiled. He sat up a bit and continued, mostly for his own delight.

There were some lyrics he did not remember so he just improvised with _na, na, na_.

Then he remembered.

_How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat._

_Some dance to remember, some dance to forget_

_So I called up the Captain,_

_"Please bring me my wine"_

_He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine"_

_And still those voices are calling from far away,_

_Wake you up in the middle of the night_

_Just to hear them say... _

The peacefulness of the melody was now making it difficult for Dean to continue singing. His eyelids were becoming heavy and blinking became more frequent.

_Welcome to the Hotel California_

_Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)_

Yawning was preventing him from keeping the right pace. He slowed down but he was aware that he couldn't go much longer. Soon his body would refuse obedience and shut down.

_Such a lovely face . . ._

At that point he yawned one last time and his eyes shut for good.

The sound of car woke Seth up. First, while remaining lying down, he kept his eyes open, focusing on the sound. Could it really be a car? Then, once he knew this was not a dream, he sat up. He did a bit of stretching, yawned, and finally got out.

There really was a car. And a very familiar one.

"Roman?" he shouted with rising level of enthusiasm.

Yes. The person who got out of the car was Roman.

Seth was so excited to see him that he totally forgot he actually should be angry with him. "You returned!" he cried, running toward his old buddy.

"Hey, hey," Roman soothed him, trying to push him away as Seth was sort of invading his personal space, "you didn't think I'd leave you here, did you?" It was a nice change to see Seth wearing clothes. But he better not ask what happened in his absence.

Something inside the car caught Seth's interest. His mouth was slightly, or a lot, open, and his eyes suggested something between fear and surprise. It was unexpected frenzy close to ecstasy actually.

Roman smiled seeing Seth's longing for the object that Roman kept inside the car until now. But he reached inside and got it out. "I thought you'd like some pizza," he explained. That was actually the reason why he left. That and because he needed to escape from the madhouse that this place was turning into.

"Yes, please."

Now that one dog was being fed, Roman wondered about the other one. "Where's Dean?"

"Inside. Sleeping."

Roman chuckled. "You kids exhausted yourselves so much that you fell asleep?"

Originally, Seth wanted to counter with something clever, but in the end, there was considerate amount of truth in it.

Roman considered going inside the tent and waking Dean up but that could wait. "Give me a slice," he asked Seth and put the other three boxes on the hood of the car.

As the food was filling Seth's stomach he felt more and more calm. He found that pizza had similar effect on him as Dean's singing. Remembering that, he put the rest of the slice he was eating back in the box, took all the boxes and changed direction toward the sleeping beauty.

Roman did not ask anything. He got the drinks and followed him.

After getting inside, Seth approached Dean and wondered if the smell would wake him up. So far it did nothing. Maybe Dean has already entered his REM sleep. However, Seth gave him a couple more seconds before upgrading to waving a slice of pizza in front of Dean's nose.

"Leave him alone," Roman from behind said in a friendly, advice-like manner. Then he returned to paying attention to his pizza.

Seth started counting. "One, two, three –"

"What are you going to do?"

". . . Four, five." That sufficed. Pizza slaps followed.

Roman was genuinely amused. He had a show and a snack with it. And there was coke on the ground next to him.

Dean still did not wake up and it started to annoy Seth. He watched him with hostility. Then he spotted the head injury. It was still somewhat bloody. Seth touched it, slowly, with care and concern. But he probably wasn't as careful as he thought because Dean woke up in pain. He cried in discomfort. Then he saw Seth's face in exquisite detail. The proximity disturbed him. Just as much he felt uneasy about the touch.

Seth let go immediately. "Hey, you're awake," he said cheerfully. "Guess who's back."

It took Dean a while to adapt to the situation. Strangely, the tent felt crowded to him. Maybe it was because he just woke up and needed to take in too much information.

But, although he could, he decided to not make a big deal of Roman's actions. Similarly to Seth, he did not mention Roman's disappearance. He himself disappeared yesterday so he would be quite a hypocrite to make a big deal of it now. And he was still too much in post-sleep state to get rid of that serene expression that felt really comfortable resting on Dean's face. Instead, he had a suggestion. "I've already mentioned this to Seth," he started. "I booked us a room in the hotel for tonight. Now that you're here we can pack up and go."

Roman did not feel very comfortable making that decision. He looked back at Dean, then at Seth.

"Seth'll be glad to be gone from here," Dean gave Roman the answer he searched for.

But Seth changed his mind. "You know, I'd actually prefer staying here."

"What?" Dean asked, surprised.

"It's the last night. And it's the first night we're _all_ here." He was looking at Dean for a reason.

"I'm staying tonight," Dean assured him that there would be no more escapes. "So you really want to spend the night here, in a small tent, outside in nature, without toilet or bathroom, instead of being in a warm hotel room with bathroom, minibar, and hotel room service?" That was something he honestly found strange and hard to understand.

"Yep," Seth confirmed.

Now Dean waited for Roman's reaction. "Look, I don't mind. I'm fine here."

"Alright," Dean said. He was pleased that the two still wanted to be with him after everything. But neither he felt any differently. This was exactly what he wanted to whole time. "Now give me that pizza."

Dean started eating when Seth paused to say something. "It hasn't been that bad, after all."

Other two laughed. "Apparently we've been at two different places," Roman said jokingly.

"You think you're joking but think about it," Seth countered. It was true there were many moments they weren't together or their activities were too distinctive. "But I think it's safe to say, never again."

"Come on," Dean interrupted with mouth still full. He unintentionally spat a bite. He picked it up and placed it back in his mouth. "I've put a lot of effort into planning this."

"And tell me again, how many times did things get out of hand?"

"Not once," he replied persuasively.

Roman laughed.

"I'm with Seth. Never again."

Dean looked down to show his disappointment. In another minute, though, his pretending was gone. He got interested in something else. "Have you got Seth's invaluable phone?"

"Yep, actually, I do," he said while reaching for it into his pocket. "There you go." He handed it to Seth who was glad to have it back.

Roman chose to omit telling about the content he contributed to. Anyway, if Seth decided to delete it, he's got it transferred to his phone so it would not be gone forever. Now that would be a disaster. Such a waste.

"Can you send me the pictures?" Dean asked.

Seth's reply was resolute. "No."

"Yeah, Seth's right," Roman joined the discussion. "Those pictures are evidence, and we certainly don't want anyone to know what happened here."

"Exactly. That's why I'm deleting them the first thing I get home."

Dean gave Seth a suspicious look. Sure you are. . . . If only he knew that Roman was now in possession of the guilty memorabilia as well. Yet the one, without whom none of the events represented in the pictures would have happened, had no reach to them. Life's unfair.

"We got carried away a little. Nothing anybody has to know," Roman said to conclude that topic.

Then the three of them returned to their delicious pizzas. Seth wanted to open a new topic, a more innocent one, but Dean was faster. "So . . . you got plans for winter?"


End file.
